Somewhere Between
by Indigo2
Summary: Elladan is captured and tormented by orcs and discovers that sometimes all we have left is all we need. Warning: Slash *NOW COMPLETE*
1. Chapter One

A/N: Okay, this is my first fic, but I think it's a pretty good go so far. Tell me what you think. This takes place sometime after Celebrian goes west, but long before Aragorn ever comes into the picture. Main characters will be the twins, Glorfindel, Elrond, Erestor, and maybe guest appearances by Legolas, Haldir or the glorious Silver One, Celeborn.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I make no profit by writing this, and I own NONE repeat: NONE of the characters mentioned in this fic. Please don't sue me. On with the story:  
  
SOMEWHERE BETWEEN  
  
They rode together, so much alike few could tell them apart. Elladan and Elrohir, the twin sons of Elrond Peredhil, dressed in twilight blue and the silver of the early morning mists that settled over their valley home. They protected their home, riding forever out into the wilderness, clearing the mountains and plains of the infestations of orcs that were far too many in these dark years.  
  
Elrohir raised himself on the back of his horse, sighing in the late winter air. He was glad to be out of the snow of the mountains and on his way home.  
  
"A warm fire and a meal I did not have to hunt myself will be welcome, brother," Elladan laughed at Elrohir's eagerness. The twins lived too closely and too long together not to be able to read each other's mind with the barest gesture.  
  
"We are still two days' ride from Imladris, though I daresay we could make it by next sunset if we rode through the night," Elrohir replied.  
  
Elladan gazed west as the sun sank lower on the horizon. "These woods are not safe after dark, but I believe that it would not be wise to camp. Let us ride on."  
  
They lapsed into silence as their mounts surged on, surefooted even on the stony mountain path. The night hemmed them in. Elrohir's horse whinnied as he pulled her up.  
  
"Elladan, something is wrong. The stars are not out tonight, and the dark is unnatural. Let us go back and find a safer path that we know home." He turned his mare away and began to ride back, trusting his brother to follow. The night air split in a scream as a spear whistled through the air.  
  
Elrohir turned to see his twin's horse rear and twist to fall on its side, a spear embedded in its flesh. Elladan was trapped under the dying horse, desperately pulling his right leg free. Elrohir could see the shadow of orcs in the trees, waiting for them in ambush.  
  
"Ride, Elrohir!" Elladan cried. He had managed to free himself, though his leg was broken. He drew his sword to defend himself from the oncoming orcs. Elrohir's horse reared as a hoard of orcs appeared in front of it, between him and his brother. He struggled to regain control of his mount as he drew his sword to fend off the attackers. Several orcs fell victim to the elvish steel, though more appeared to take their place. He could hear Elladan, not far away as his blade clashed with the crude weapons of the orcs.  
  
"Ride, Elrohir! By Elbereth, ride while you still have a mount beneath you!"  
  
Elrohir saw that there were too many orcs, the trap was too well-set as still more orcs attempted to cut off his escape route. If he were to flee, it would have to be now.  
  
"Be strong, brother! I will come back for you!" he cried as he spurred his horse away, cutting down the orcs that tried to bar his path. "May Grandfather's light keep you in this darkness, Elladan," he prayed to the starless night.  
  
  
  
The soft mid-morning light slanted through the open windows as Lord Elrond sat in his study, bent over a Dwarvish translation he had been working on for the last season. It was almost complete, and the Lore Master wished to be done with it before preparations for the New Year had to be under way. He distantly heard the soft sound of elvish feet in the hallway outside, but waited for the knock that was sure to come. There was no knock as someone burst through his door. He looked up to see Glorfindel, his expression grave.  
  
"Lord Elrond, Elrohir has returned without Elladan."  
  
Elrond stood so quickly that his hand knocked over the small ink pot, sending a black flood down the volume. It lay forgotten.  
  
"Where is Elrohir! What happened?" he demanded.  
  
Glorfindel quickly led Elrond to Elrohir's room. "There was an orc ambush, two days out of the borders, though Elrohir made it back in a night and half a morning." There was a grim pride in Glorfindel's voice for his student's riding skills.  
  
They entered Elrohir's room to find him sitting in chair. Erestor was standing above him, pressing him to drink tea and tending to a wound on his arm. "Father!" he said, nearly dropping the teacup if Erestor hadn't caught his hands. He looked pale and exhausted.  
  
Elrond fell to his knees in front of his son, wrapping him in a strong embrace. Tears streamed down Elrohir's face. "I couldn't…I tried, Ada."  
  
"Hush now, Elrohir. You're safe here. We'll get him back," Elrond reassured him. "Glorfindel," he addressed his captain while still holding his son. "Assemble the swiftest riders and the finest horses. We leave as soon as preparations are made."  
  
Elrond rose and Elrohir just after. The twin wiped his now resolute eyes with his sleeve, and bent to retrieve his mail where it rested on another chair.  
  
"No, Elrohir," Elrond stopped him. "You to stay here with Erestor. I will not lose another son."  
  
Elrohir squared his shoulders, bringing his noble heritage to bear and looking like the young elf lord he was. "And I…I will not lose a brother. I promised him I would return. I will not fail Elladan." Not like I failed our mother, the comment was left unvoiced.  
  
Elrond nodded. He understood oaths sworn in battle and kept long after. "Very well. Hurry! We have no time to tarry." 


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: Okay, thanks a lot for the reviews to whoever sent them. But there's a few warning for this part because it's not very nice. So here it goes…  
  
WARNINGS: this part deals with some Elladan torture and rape, though it will be implied, since I don't feel the need to get graphic. But it's important to know that this happens to him, for later in the story. I'm definitely keeping the R rating, though.  
  
With that said, enjoy!  
  
Part 2:  
  
Elladan awoke to cold and darkness. That in itself wasn't unusual. He was used to camping under the thick canopies of the forest and on the icy, stony ground of the mountains. But this place was different. The darkness was total, unnatural except for deep in the ground. He swallowed thickly as claustrophobia started to set in. He tried to lift his head, but it felt heavy. At the movement, his entire body exploded in pain and he grit his teeth and breathed deeply to keep himself from passing out. His right leg hurt the most, though his head felt like it had been used as an anvil by an especially vigorous dwarf lord.  
  
Elladan lay still for a moment to discern his surroundings more thoroughly. His mail and weapons were gone. Indeed, all of his clothing except for his breeches was missing. That would explain the cold, he thought grimly to himself. His arms were chained above his head to the stone he was lying on, as were his legs. He could not free himself, though struggling produced a satisfying clanking noise. At least he could still hear.  
  
He couldn't move. He couldn't see. He didn't think calling out was a very bright idea. He remembered riding through the strange darkness with Elrohir when his horse screamed and fell over. Oh, poor Ruin, his fiery red mare. He supposed she was residing in some orc's belly now. She had broken his leg, but that was no fault of hers. The orcs broke his bow when he reached for it, and he had been forced to his sword when unable to maneuver very well. He had tried to fight, but he couldn't get his leg under him, and the orcs had outnumbered him. Elrohir got away, as far as he knew. He could only hope that his brother's superior riding skills had borne him to Imladris.  
  
Elladan concentrated on his restraints. They were cruelly made, so even small movements caused the iron to bite into his skin. He could not find where the chain fastened to the rock, or any weak link he could possibly break to free himself. He stilled his movements as whispers of Black Speech reached his ears, moments before the stench of orcs filled the cavern. Elladan could count five by their footfalls, and his guess was affirmed as the flicker of the torch they carried silhouetted them against the stony walls.  
  
"Awake, little elfling?" one croaked in the Common Speech. "Are you going to open those little star-loving eyes?"  
  
"I've never seen an elf sleep with its eyes closed," another grumbled.  
  
"It's not all elf. It's the whelp of that half-breed cur Elrond."  
  
"Free me now and I will kill you swiftly," Elladan's melodic voice rose above the bickering. His speech was slurred, but steady. "Any who speak of my father in such away does not deserve a quick death, but I will be merciful."  
  
"Oh mercy me!" the orc taunted. "You're in no position to make demands, elfling. Haul him up!"  
  
Elladan's vision wavered as he was hauled to his feet. The chains on his arms were hoisted to the ceiling where he hung, thankfully able to keep the weight off his leg, though blood soon ran down his wrists from the shackles. He saw the orc fingering a whip, and he steeled himself for what he knew would come. The orc disappeared from his vision, though his position was announced as the crack of the whip caught him across the shoulders. Elladan bit his lip to keep himself from crying out, but that only served to earn him a blow across the cheek, splitting the skin.  
  
"Don't hold back on my account!" the orc sneered. "We'll hear you scream before the end."  
  
The lashes kept coming, harder as the scent of elvish blood further enflamed the orcs. Elladan concentrated on dragging air into his lungs, but an especially vicious kick to his injured leg ripped a scream from his throat. The orc drew a knife, the blade shining black in the cold torchlight. He used it to draw a line down Elladan's ribcage. The wound burned cold as ice from the top of Caradhras himself. A matching line was etched down his other side, wrenching another cry from his throat. The whipping continued as he hung limply in his bonds.  
  
"Stop you monstrous idiot! You'll kill him if you keep that up!" The whip ceased, though Elladan's sight began to grow dim. The chains were loosed and he collapsed to the floor that had grown slick with bright red blood. He groaned as his arms were forced behind his back at an unnatural angle, crying hoarsely as his wrist gave under the pressure with a muted snap.  
  
He should run, or at least try, while he was not tied to an immobile object, he thought desperately. But the thought fled as he felt a kick to his side and the weight of an orc settling across his back.  
  
"You have fun hunting orcs, eh elf?" the voice was dangerously close to his ear. "Well, now we have fun with you." 


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: Again, thanks for the reviews. They really do help me write faster, knowing that someone is waiting for the next part. So here it is. No warnings for this part, though maybe for the next part, for more blood.  
  
Part 3:  
  
The trees of the forests outside Imladris whispered rumors to each other. Lord Elrond rides to battle, they said to one another. A glorious sight indeed, not seen since Gil-Galad himself asked Elrond to carry the banners of the Last Alliance. The whispers silenced themselves as the small procession rode beneath the branches of the gossiping trees. Elrohir, looking proud and dangerous in his shining mail, led them through the trees. Glorfindel rode with him on his steed Asfaloth, tracking the orcs through the forests with an expert eye that missed nothing and ears sharper than any blade. Behind them rode Lord Elrond, clad in armor that hadn't seen the light of day in many a long year. His skills were still sharp, however, kept honed by training two warrior sons and a belligerent daughter. Members of the guard of Imladris followed in the wake of the elf lords, fearing only for the terrible justice the three ahead would bring down upon the orcs.  
  
"Here, Father!" Elrohir's clear voice rang out. He pointed down a small hill to a group of caves carved into the side of a cliff. Glorfindel dismounted and crept closer to the edge of the hill, shading his eyes against the afternoon sun.  
  
Elrond joined him, handing the reins of his horse over to Elrohir. "If we are to attack, it would be best to do so while there is still light," Glorfindel suggested. "We could flush them out with fire, but I know not how extensive the caves are, or where Elladan would be."  
  
"I would not have Elrohir with us when we find Elladan," Elrond said to his friend. "He has suffered much guilt already over what he could not control."  
  
Glorfindel nodded. He understood that it just may be too much for the twin if he found his brother seriously wounded or—Elbereth help him—dead.  
  
"If we can draw the majority of the orcs out, then you and I can go in after Elladan," Glorfindel reasoned. "Elrohir could lead the attack, and two can move faster through the caves than many."  
  
Elrond agreed to his captain's plan. Elrohir had much practice at flushing out hoards of orcs, and they would expecting him to come back to avenge his brother. They returned to the group to explain their tactics. They prepared quickly, as they only had a few hours' sun left in the day.  
  
Elrohir rode to the mouth of the cave, bearing fire brands. He cast them into the cave's entrance, which soon filled with smoke. "By Elbereth, if you have harmed my brother I will have your heads and the head of every orc in Middle Earth before I am done with you!" Elrohir's cry echoed off the mountains. His horse reared and whinnied, echoing the challenge as Elrohir drew his sword.  
  
Orcs stumbled through the mouth of the cave, frightened by the fire and blinded by the smoke. They drew their weapons, thinking Elrohir came alone to avenge his brother's death. Elven arrows felled them before they could clear the smoke out of their eyes. Still more followed, brought out by the sounds of battle and screams above the roar of the flames. In the confusion, the orcs took no notice of the two elf lords as they slipped in past the flames, into the caverns beyond.  
  
Elrond and Glorfindel hid around corners and in side passages as groups of orcs swarmed out of the caverns to face the attacking elves. They crept silently down the stone passages, passing farther and farther into the dark.  
  
"Perhaps it would have been wiser to bring Elrohir. The twins have always been able to find each other with uncanny ease," Glorfindel commented.  
  
"Yes and no," Elrond replied. "It would be shorter work, for their bond is indeed strong, but for that reason, I would not have him here."  
  
Their conversation was cut short as a band of orcs hurtled around a corner, directly in front of the elf lords. 


	4. Chapter Four

A/N: Here's another part. I'm writing fast because I'm between midterms and I have time, but I'm probably going to slow down a bit after this. But don't worry, I won't abandon Elladan!  
  
Part 4:  
  
Elladan awoke to the sounds of battle. He could hear the shouts of orcs and the clang of weapons, but it sounded far away, too far away to be considered. He was so tired, and everything hurt so much. He was still lying half-twisted on his side, arms bound behind him. It was cold. He tried to draw his knees to his chest, to warm himself a little, but the pain was too much and his body didn't want to obey his commands. He shut his eyes tight to control his ragged breathing. His chest ached the most, as if someone had packed snow under his skin and the cold infested his bruised ribs, freezing his heart and lungs.  
  
A strangely out of place breeze drafted through the cave. It brought the sharp, acrid smell of smoke, but it was also too far away to be bothered with. Elladan distantly wished for fire, for perhaps the licking flames could thaw the chill he felt. But damp stone did not burn, he thought mournfully. Iron chains did not either. Orcs burn. That thought made him smile a little. So did elves.  
  
  
  
Elrond kept his back to Glorfindel as they fought the orcs in the tight passage. The narrow walls kept the orcs from attacking en mass, forcing them to face the elves one or two at a time. It was no challenge, and the last few cowered and ran, choosing to face the fire and daylight at the entrance rather than the two terrible warriors that dealt death so coldly.  
  
Glorfindel bent to retrieve a torch that one of the now dead orcs carried. "A little light would aid us," he said. Elrond smiled grimly in reply, but kept his sword unsheathed.  
  
They followed the passage the orcs had come down, led on by instinct and Glorfindel's sight in the shadow world. Glorfindel's time in the Blessed Land and rebirth to Middle Earth gifted with the ability to walk in two worlds at once, a talent he brought to bear now.  
  
They did not encounter any more orcs; Elrohir and the guard were fierce and experienced, and swift in the slaughter. The passageway was short, and they found themselves in a small cavern. Glorfindel gasped as he saw Elladan, bound and bloody, lying on a stone slab against the far wall.  
  
Elrond hurried to his son's side. Elladan did not respond at first, though he moaned as Elrond ran his hands over his bare body, checking the extent of his wounds. Glorfindel set the torch in a sconce in the wall, and tore his cloak into strips to serve as bandages.  
  
"Elladan?" Elrond whispered. "Can you hear me?"  
  
Elladan's eyes flickered open, casting about the shadows for his father's voice. "Ada?" His voice was hoarse and broken, so unlike Elrohir's clear voice that echoed back into the caverns from outside.  
  
Elrond's face was grim as he saw the two knife wounds that traced Elladan's ribs. The edges of the wound were dark and bled black, a sure sign of some poison at work. His skin was cold to the touch, and his lips were tinted blue. Glorfindel moved to his side and began to work on the shackles around his wrists. They came off with a soft click, and Elrond bent to wrap his cloak around the still form.  
  
"No…" Elladan tried to fight him, though he could barely move.  
  
"Shh, Elladan. Hush. It is Ada and Glorfindel, remember?" Elrond soothed.  
  
Understanding lit the soft grey eyes for a moment. "Ada…Elrohir! Where is Elrohir? He promised…"  
  
Glorfindel turned away, pretending to keep watch for orcs in the passage. He could not bear to see proud Elladan so badly broken.  
  
"I know he promised," Elrond continued as he bound the worst of his wounds. "He's outside, waiting for you. Now I'm going to pick you up, Elladan."  
  
Elladan nodded a little, wincing as he did. He was tired and cold and he hurt, but Ada and Glorfindel would take care of him, he was sure. And Elrohir was waiting for him, just outside. Elrohir was safe.  
  
Elrond lifted Elladan to cradle him in his arms. His head fell against Elrond's shoulder, eyes closed in unconsciousness once again. Glorfindel took up the torch as they made their way out of the now deserted caverns.  
  
  
  
  
  
Elrohir stood cleaning his sword, waiting anxiously for his father to return. He surveyed his handiwork; the bodies of many orcs littered the entrance and the forest floor beyond, but not one elf was lost or even seriously wounded. Dark storm clouds crowded the horizon, threatening rain, so he sent half of the guard to make camp in a well-know clearing that was not far off. He dared not enter the cave, as his father had ordered him to stay outside and he had no wish to go against his father's commands.  
  
Elrohir's hopes were answered as he saw his father and Glorfindel exit the cave. His father had a limp form bundled in a cloak cradled in his arms. He sheathed his sword and rushed up to them, but Glorfindel caught him around the shoulders.  
  
"What is it, Glorfindel?" Elrohir asked. "Why will you not allow me to see my own brother? Is he….?"  
  
"No, no Elladan still lives," Glorfindel said softly. "But there is naught you can do to help him at this point in time. He needs your father's healing, and that you cannot help him with that. There are other things that need your tending."  
  
Elrohir fought with his tears. He had to be strong. Elladan would need him to be strong for him. He would not cry again.  
  
"I understand," he said quietly. Glorfindel released his hold on the twin's shoulders, allowing him to straighten. He drew in a breath with only a slight shudder. "The bodies of the orcs….they should not be left to befoul the woods. Leave me a few elves and we will dispose of them whilst you and Father take Elladan to the camp. I have already sent half the guard ahead, so the way will be clear and the camp will be ready when you arrive. It is in the clearing west of here that you know of as well as I."  
  
Glorfindel enfolded Elrohir in an embrace, knowing he needed it, young elf lord or not. "You impress me every waking day, Elrohir. You have done well. Fear not for Elladan."  
  
Glorfindel stepped away and returned to Elrond's side. He was settling Elladan across his horse. The great white animal stood very still and quiet; he knew he would have to be careful on the forest paths and not jostle the poor, hurt elf he carried.  
  
"Elrohir has arranged a camp and shelter for the night," Glorfindel said.  
  
"How far? Elladan cannot be moved far on horseback."  
  
Glorfindel shook his head. "Not far, and the paths are easy. We will get there before full dark, even riding slow."  
  
Elrond looked relieved as he mounted up behind Elladan. "Blessed Elrohir," he sighed. "Let us be off, then," he called aloud.  
  
Elrohir, along with three of the house guard, did not heed the call. He clutched his sword and watched as his father bore his brother away. 


	5. Chapter Five

A/N: Hello all. Indigo here again. I'm not sure why I keep putting these author's notes in front of every chapter, but it's a habit now. Well, it's a good place to say THANK YOU for reviews, though, so I'll keep using it for that at least. This part is a little sappy, a little angsty, but hopefully not boring. Okay, on with the show:  
  
Part 5:  
  
Elrond and Glorfindel rode into the camp just as the stars were starting to show in the sky. The ride had not been long, but Elladan faded in and out of consciousness, fully waking only once to ask if the stars were out.  
  
"No, Elladan," Elrond had answered, stroking the dark hair out of his son's face. "It is not dark enough yet for the stars to be out." Elladan had not seemed to hear him, and his eyes closed as the horse moved on towards the camp.  
  
Glorfindel dismounted, taking the injured elf from the saddle first and allowing Elrond to dismount before taking his son back into his arms. There was a large tent set up in the center of the clearing, and water boiling over a merrily crackling fire. Elrond took his son inside just as the first rain drops started to patter on the ground. It was warm inside the tent, and would remain dry through the night. He lay Elladan down on a small cot that was waiting for him, replacing the travel stained cloak with clean blankets.  
  
Glorfindel handed the horses off to a waiting elf and, taking Elrond's saddlebags, joined his lord in the tent. Elrond took the saddlebags from him and began to remove various herbs and potions he brought with him from Imladris, along with clean bandages. He took some athelas and crushed it into a bowl of hot water. The tent soon filled with the wholesome smell of wild, growing things. Elladan sighed in his unnatural sleep and breathed easier. Elrond handed the bowl to Glorfindel and started to mix a poultice to use to draw out the poison from Elladan's wounds, while Glorfindel used the athelas water to clean out the injuries. He had to fight back a cry when he encountered the blood that stained Elladan's thighs.  
  
"I have not seen such atrocities commit against an elf who has lived through it," Glorfindel murmured, half to himself.  
  
Elrond looked up from where he was applying the poultice to Elladan's sides. "The blood of men sings strongly in his veins," he said. "Let us hope it does not fail his Elven heart now."  
  
They continued to work silently as the rain broke over the forest and pelted the roof of the tent in uneven rhythms. Thunder could be heard in the distance, thankfully not close enough to warrant concern. At last the two elves were done with their bleak task, tucking the blankets securely around Elladan. Another folded blanket went against his back, to keep him from moving too much in his sleep and aggravating his injuries.  
  
"Someone must be with him at all times, to make sure he stays warm and calm," Elrond instructed.  
  
"I doubt anything could make you or I leave this tent before the morn," Glorfindel said with a bittersweet smile. They settled at Elladan's side, prepared to wait out the long night.  
  
  
  
Elrohir let the rain wash over him as he guided his horse through the forest. It had taken them longer than he expected to dispose of the orcs' bodies, since the rain drenched any wood and a large enough fire could not be kindled. They had settled for burning them in their lair, a proper enough end in Elrohir's respect, he mused. Still, he was bone weary and worried sick and now soaking wet to add to his misery. He found the rain to be an added blessing when he arrived at camp, however, as it had washed the evidence of battle from his skin during his ride, and the delay of cleaning the blood from his skin was not needed.  
  
The camp looked homely enough for its purpose, though the comfort of the warm, well-lit tents were lost on Elrohir. He dismounted as he neared the largest tent, where he knew his brother and father would be. His horse nickered and nipped at his cape. Elrohir sighed; he would need to tend to his steed before anything else. She ran as though she had the wings of the King of Eagles to deliver him to Imladris, then turned around in the space of hours and borne him straight back into battle. No other than an elven bred horse could do as she had done.  
  
"My lord," a soft voice at his shoulder spoke. Elrohir turned to see a young elf standing next to him. Lindir, he remembered, was a fine storyteller and a trusted warrior. "Please, allow me to care for your horse. She has performed her duty well, and I believe that you have duties of your own to attend to."  
  
Elrohir smiled as he handed off the mare's lead. "Thank you, Lindir. You know not the kindness you perform."  
  
Lindir smiled himself. "I also have loved ones, Lord Elrohir, and those who love me also."  
  
Elrohir raced the few steps to the tent, but paused at the entrance. Nothing was between him and Elladan now but the cloth of the tent flap, yet for some reason he couldn't bring himself to cross that flimsy boundary. The rain continued to fall over him as he stood frozen to his spot. Suddenly, the tent flap was pulled back and Glorfindel appeared. He looked shocked to see the soaking wet twin standing there, but he didn't voice his concern.  
  
"Come in," Glorfindel said simply.  
  
He took Elrohir's hand when he still didn't move and lead him into the tent. It was warmer, and the rain sounded strangely muted, he noticed, still not looking where his brother lay. Glorfindel removed his armor, as he seemed incapable of any unaided motion at the moment. A soft blanket was draped over his shoulders as soon as the wet clothes were removed, and a mug of something hot—soup, Elrohir noted dully—was placed in his hands.  
  
"Go to your brother and your father," Glorfindel whispered. "They need you."  
  
Elrohir nodded, finally turning around to face his family. He sat at his father's feet, next to Elladan's bedside. The cot was low enough that he could clearly see his brother from his spot on the floor and he forced himself to look. The thick blankets hid most of his wounds, but Elladan was deathly pale. The cut across his cheek and the surrounding bruises looked more like ink spilt on parchment than anything real and living. Elrohir reached out slowly and let his fingers drift across the face as familiar as his own. The skin was warm under his touch and he sighed in relief.  
  
"He'll recover, Father?" Elrohir asked, youthful hope coloring his tone.  
  
Elrond reached out to stroke Elrohir's damp hair. "The poison has not conquered him yet, Elrohir. Dawn's light will bring fairer judgment."  
  
Elrohir nodded in understanding and allowed himself to lean back against his father's knees. Elrond's hand still rested on his shoulder, comforting with a practiced healer's touch. Elrohir snaked his hand under the blankets to clasp his brother's, though Elladan did not respond to the touch. Wearied by worry and battle, Elrohir fell asleep to the sweet scent of athelas and his father's voice singing a long forgotten lullaby. 


	6. Chapter Six

A/N: First of all, thank you for the wonderful reviews! And don't worry, this story has a ways to go yet! In other notes, this part is short because it is late and I have an early class tomorrow. Real life is such a bother sometimes! But keep telling me what you think, and I'll keep trying to get the next part out!  
  
Part 6:  
  
The night deepened and the fires burned lower, but Elrond sat awake. Elrohir slept on, his head still pillowed on his father's knee. His sweet Elrohir, forever trying to do right in the eyes of his loved ones, but as wild as any untamed colt. Still, his loyalty was the substance of legends. Tears leapt to Elrond's eyes and he let them fall. He was certain that if Elladan's soul fled for the Halls of Mandos, Elrohir's would not be far behind.  
  
Elladan whimpered in his sleep and Elrond quickly shifted Elrohir to allow him to lean over Elladan's bedside. His breathing was uneven and his eyes began to flutter open, a sure sign of waking. Elrohir came awake, instantly sensing the change in his brother.  
  
A low groan was torn from Elladan's throat as he came fully awake. Everything hurt so much that he was tempted to fall back into the dark oblivion he had escaped from. Even the low firelight burned his eyes, and breathing took all the effort he could muster. He was about to give up trying to keep his mind steady when he felt himself lifted into a half- sitting position and something cool was placed against his parched lips.  
  
"Elladan, try to drink this," his father's voice urged him. "It will help with the pain."  
  
He managed to swallow most of the liquid, though some escaped to dribble down his cheek and splatter on the blankets. He was laid back down and a warm hand wiped the spill away. Elladan was able to focus on his father's face, etched with worry and pain, looking down at him. There were tear tracks tracing his face that he did not try to hide.  
  
"Am I dying, Father?" Elladan asked. His voice sounded rough and cracked to his own ears.  
  
"No!" It was Elrohir's voice now.  
  
"No," Elrond repeated, quieter, though endlessly deep with pain. "Do you remember what happened?"  
  
There was silence for a long time as Elladan looked away. Elrohir groped for his hand under the covers, trying to offer what support he could.  
  
"I…remember," Elladan finally said, almost too softly for even Elvish ears to hear.  
  
Quiet sobs racked Elrohir's body, for his brother could not meet his gaze. He laid his head down on the bed, cheek pressed against Elladan's uninjured hand. Elrond was impressed that he was able to keep his own hand steady as he stroked Elladan's hair out of his face. He could see the fear and shame in his son's eyes as he looked down at him.  
  
"I am so very proud of your bravery and your loyalty, my son," Elrond said. "Try to rest now. You will need your strength for the ride tomorrow."  
  
Elladan nodded and closed his eyes obediently, his hand still gripped tightly by his brother. It did not take long for the exhaustion and the powerful medication to send him back into a dreamless sleep. 


	7. Chapter Seven

A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you for all of the WONDERFUL feedback I'm getting! I actually didn't think this story would take off at all, but you all make it so easy to keep writing! I'm becoming addicted to the reviews! Okay, enough rambling on. Here's the next part.  
  
Part 7:  
  
Erestor stood at the gates of Imladris, waiting anxiously for the arrival of Elrond and the small company that had set out to rescue Elladan. Lindir had arrived moments ago, announcing that Elrond had indeed found his son, and that Elladan still lived. In what state, Erestor knew not.  
  
During the absence of Lord Elrond, Erestor used his duties to keep his mind from driving him mad with worry. Both of the twins' rooms were prepared for their arrival, though Elladan's slightly more comfortably so. It was not favoritism, Erestor reflected, as Elrohir would most likely spend every waking moment in his brother's room until Elladan was fully healed.  
  
Erestor's nerves were on fire as he saw the horses come around the last bend in the cliff and start across the stone bridge. Glorfindel's powerful white charger led the way, followed closely by Elrond's own white horse and Elrohir's grey mare. Elrond was carrying a bundled up form in front of him across the saddle, and his horse was especially careful in picking a path over the narrow bridge. They were soon across and Erestor caught Elrond's reins, bringing his horse to a halt.  
  
"My lord?" he questioned.  
  
Elrond dismounted, cradling his precious burden closer to his chest. "He has been gravely wounded, but he will recover," he laid Erestor's worries to rest.  
  
Erestor nearly fainted with relief, but he caught hold of his emotions and simply led the tired warriors to their rooms.  
  
  
  
Elladan awoke as the sun slanted through the open window and fell upon his face. He could feel soft sheets and warm blankets tucked around him, and the sweet song of the birds outside his balcony reached his ears. Still, he was afraid to open his eyes and he felt unearthly cold, though the sun warmed the bed around him.  
  
"Are you awake, Elladan?" an amused voice asked. "Or are you pretending as you did as a child? I promise no stable duty awaits you this morn, if that is any consolation."  
  
Glorfindel immediately regretted his light words as Elladan did indeed open his eyes. The grey eyes, usually so full of play and wonder, were dull and deep with loss.  
  
"Am I home?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, Elladan, home in your own bed."  
  
Elladan looked the room over. Yes, it was his room. There was the balcony overlooking the porch below and the river beyond; the door that led to Elrohir's adjoining room; the chair with the mended leg that he and his brother had broken years before. Yes, he knew this place. He took the time to take stock of his injuries, noting that his right leg was splinted and propped up on a pillow, and his left wrist was also tightly bound, though he didn't quite remember how that had broken. Oh yes, when the chains had…. He shuddered as the memories flooded back once again, and didn't allow his brain to continue that thought.  
  
Glorfindel sat quietly, allowing Elladan all the time he needed to reacquaint himself with the land of the living and the familiarity of his bedroom. Still, he noted the shudder and grimace of pain with concern, and placed his hand across the elder twin's brow.  
  
"Are you alright, Elladan?" he asked.  
  
"No," he said quietly. "I do not think I should ever be quite right again." Glorfindel's heart broke as he searched for a response, but Elladan continued. "Father…he knew what was done to me. Do you also know, Glorfindel?"  
  
"Yes," he answered honestly. He could not lie in the face of such suffering.  
  
"How do you know? Did I tell you and not remember it now?"  
  
"No, you had no need to tell us of what happened. It was evident when we found you, though I would give my life again and a thousand times over to have prevented it. Elrohir has no knowledge of it. He knows only you were wounded and poisoned."  
  
Elladan shook his head sadly. "He knows. He knew it when I could not meet his eyes." Tears started to leak from his eyes and fall onto the pillow. "Or else he will know soon, whether he is told or not. No secret has ever lived between us."  
  
Glorfindel reached out to comfort him, but he flinched from the touch before he realized it. "I'm sorry!" he choked, horrified at his own reaction. The tears came harder now in muffled sobs.  
  
Glorfindel moved to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out again slowly so as not to startle the young elf. "Hush, it is no fault of yours," he murmured as he wiped the tears away. "Shall I send for Elrohir, or your father?"  
  
"No, it makes no matter now," he sniffed. "'Tis better this way, that it was me and not Elrohir," he said, his voice becoming soft and fuzzy.  
  
"Better if it was neither of you," Glorfindel replied quickly.  
  
"No, Glorfindel. I am glad that it was I and not him. Elrohir has not taken a lover yet. He would not be able to hide." The last comment was sleepy, and it took a moment for it to sink into Glorfindel's understanding.  
  
Elladan did indeed fare better than Elrohir would have. He was able to keep himself alive by hiding behind the memories of a lover's touch, and Elrohir would not have had that protection.  
  
Erestor walked into the room, balancing a stack of linens and bandages, and a bouquet of wildflowers on top.  
  
"Erestor, can you stay with Elladan for a while? I must find Lord Elrond and Elrohir."  
  
"Yes, of course," the dark-haired elf replied. He watched as Glorfindel sped from the room, hoping it was good news he carried.  
  
  
  
Elrohir stood in the courtyard, quickly tying his message to the small blackbird's leg. "Fly fast and true," he bade it as he let it go. He watched as it wheeled in the sky and headed east, towards his only hope for his brother's salvation. 


	8. Chapter Eight

A/N: Here's a little chapter, since I won't be able to post tomorrow. Stupid real life, stupid midterms, stupid term papers!! And I promise this will get more interesting after this part. Elrohir gets a little pissed, Glorfindel gets grumpy…well, I can't tell you everything now, can I? ;)  
  
Part 8:  
  
Glorfindel hurried as quickly as was dignified for an elf lord through the open halls towards Lord Elrond's study. The few elves in the passages moved discretely out of his way, knowing that anything that could cause Lord Glorfindel to rush was more important than their own errands for the moment. He found Elrond in his study, sifting through books on herb lore. The heavy volumes and loose scrolls covered most every surface around his desk and teetered in uneasy stacks on the floor.  
  
"How goes it, my Lord?" Glorfindel asked in a way of announcing his presence.  
  
"I now have a better idea of the poison used against Elladan, and how to treat it," Elrond replied heavily. "It is not lethal, but he will feel the lingering influences for a long time, and it will delay his healing." He looked up from his books with a concerned gaze. "Why are you not with him?"  
  
"Erestor is, for the moment. I came to seek you, for he has awoken."  
  
"So soon?" Elrond asked, immediately rising to his feet. "I should have stayed with him, to be there when he woke." His tone was full of regret.  
  
Glorfindel shook his head. "Do not worry. You will be there when he wakes again. But I seek Elrohir at the moment, for I need to speak with him."  
  
"He was in the courtyard last I saw him. Find him and I will see to his brother," Elrond said as he left to Elladan's room.  
  
Glorfindel left in the opposite direction, out past the gardens and covered porches to the courtyard. Elrohir was indeed there, perched on a stone bench. He sat with his arms wrapped around his drawn up knees, looking east with dry eyes. Glorfindel slowed his steps as he approached and sat beside the forlorn figure.  
  
"How fare you, Elrohir?" he asked gently.  
  
"Well enough," Elrohir said. "How is Elladan?"  
  
Glorfindel smiled at the younger twin's fierce loyalty and concern. "He was awake a little while ago." Elrohir's eyes brightened at that. "And your father has discerned that the poison is not deadly, though it will weaken him for a while."  
  
"Can I see him? Though I don't know why he would want to see me right now."  
  
"Why would you think that, Elrohir?" Glorfindel asked, astonished. "He loves you just as much as you love him."  
  
"I left him there. I ran away and couldn't protect him. Just like we couldn't protect Mother, Glorfindel. The same thing happened to her and she sailed west and left us behind."  
  
"Your mother loved you too much to stay," Glorfindel said softly, edging closer to Elrohir. "She didn't want you to see her in pain. She was very brave, and it was the last resort she had, to allow you and Elladan and Arwen to keep your innocence."  
  
Glorfindel had his hand on Elrohir's knee and he squeezed it affectionately. "If Elladan chooses to sail across the sea as your mother did, you can go with him. You always have that choice also, Elrohir."  
  
"I always thought that when the time came, to sail west or to stay here or whatever else might come our way, Elladan and I would face it together. But I am not ready to leave Arda! There is still so much joy to found under the trees and in the rivers and the skies! I do not know if I could leave it behind, even for my love for my brother."  
  
"That is not a choice to make now, sweet Elrohir. Do not worry yourself over it until the time comes." Glorfindel sighed to himself and the surrounding trees. "Now, I came to ask a question of you."  
  
"Anything, Glorfindel. I am in no mood for secrets," Elrohir replied, shifting his position on the bench.  
  
"Is there anyone else we should send word to on Elladan's condition? Someone he would not tell me or your father about?" he asked gently, not sure of how the message would be received by the younger twin.  
  
"Yes, there is. Elladan took a lover, this time last year. They were together until we parted to return home. No vows were exchanged, but I could see there was love between them."  
  
"And who is this mysterious stranger that has stolen your brother's heart?"  
  
"Legolas of Mirkwood."  
  
Glorfindel laughed aloud, his voice echoing through the valley as the birds sang in return. "What a fine match that is—and a fine mess if I ever heard of one! His father will not be pleased, but I will send word to the young prince."  
  
  
  
The hint of an impish smile alighted Elrohir's face. "I already have." 


	9. Chapter Nine

A/N: At the end of the chapter this time.  
  
Part 9:  
  
The lights were low in Imladris as Ithil shined down through branches and open windows to look upon sleeping elves. The shudders were still shut against the cold winter air; spring was coming quickly, but it had not arrived yet. Fires crackled quietly over the sounds of crickets on the window sills and the bubbling Bruinen pervasive through the valley.  
  
The moon lit upon the figure of one elf in particular as he crept around a doorway. Elrohir quieted his footfalls as he crossed his room into his brother's. His raven-black hair hung loose down his back and swished as he walked. He wrapped his robe around him tighter against a sudden chill.  
  
He had woken up with a bad feeling, and sure enough, he found Elladan in the next room muttering to himself in a nightmare. Elrohir climbed up on the big bed and reached over to shake his twin's shoulder. Elladan came awake with a sudden yelp, grey eyes frantic and dark as he searched the room for danger. His eyes found Elrohir's and his gaze shifted away quickly.  
  
"You were dreaming," Elrohir explained. He was at a loss for anything else to say as Elladan simply turned onto his side and refused to look at him.  
  
"Do you want me to stay, Elladan?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.  
  
"If you wish," Elladan replied after a few heartbeats.  
  
"I think I shall. My room is too cold anyway," he lied.  
  
Elrohir slipped under the heavy blankets and began to gently rub Elladan's back. It had been two weeks since Elladan's rescue, and the whip welts had mostly healed, becoming more of an itch than anything as they faded. Elladan didn't react, but then again he didn't react much anymore. He was still terribly weak as the poison lingered in his body, but Elrond assured him that the effects would eventually fade. Still, he wouldn't eat unless coaxed and he slept most of the day. And he rarely spoke. Elladan would listen without really hearing as his father came to talk with him or read to him, or when Erestor brought him flowers and told him of the preparations for the New Year. Glorfindel came less, since he returned to his duty as captain of the guard, but he still came when he could.  
  
Elladan remembered when he woke the second time to find his father at his side and Elrohir sleeping next to him. It had felt so good for a moment, to hear his father's voice and to see his brother's noble face relaxed in sleep, the bow-shaped lips parted slightly the way they did when he was truly exhausted. But then the memories came on the tail of wakefulness, and Elrohir's innocent face brought tears to his eyes that he didn't understand.  
  
Elrond had wanted to send for Arwen, hoping that she could perhaps bring her brother out of his depression. Elladan would not hear of it. He demanded that he be allowed to write a letter to his sister himself, to tell her not to worry and that he would see her when she came to Imladris for the New Year's festivities, when she planned to return anyway. Elrond agreed to it, since he was not outright refusing to see his sister, and he could not blame Elladan for not wanting her to see him in his weakened state.  
  
Elrohir worried after his brother and hardly left his side. They were constant companions, though Elladan would not be able to escape his company if he tried, as he was still restricted to bed. Each day that passed only seemed to bring more pain, and not the healing it should to the twins. Elladan would not speak to his brother any more than to anyone else, and Elrohir was at the end of his wits with the fear that Elladan could still be taken from him by his own grief, after all they had done to get him back.  
  
Elrohir lay awake for a while, lending Elladan what comfort he could. Only after he heard his brother's breathing even out in sleep did Elrohir withdraw his hand and curl up on his side of the bed to rest.  
  
  
  
Dawn broke over Imladris, chasing the stars from the sky with golden light. Elrond usually woke with the sun, but it was the sound of his door creaking that woke him this morn. He looked up to see who would invade his private sanctuary without announcing themselves. It was Elrohir, tear- stained and fretful. He shut the door behind him and nearly hurtled onto the bed.  
  
"What is wrong, child?" Elrond asked, making room for his son. It seemed as though it was quite a few centuries since Elrohir had felt the need to take comfort in his parent's bed.  
  
"What happened to Elladan at the hands of the orcs? What is it that you wish to keep from me, for I do not think I know all of what happened," Elrohir asked quietly.  
  
Elrond sucked in a breath. He should have expected Elrohir, forever the sensitive one, to figure out that he was not told the truth in its entirety. "Do you truly not know already? Or do you only wish for me to reaffirm your suspicions with words?"  
  
"It is true then?" Elrohir said. "Elladan was…violated?" He could not bring himself to say the word. "I suspected as much, but I did not want to believe myself. Before, looking into his eyes was always like looking into a mirror. Now, there is something there I have never seen. It is like looking into a stranger's eyes."  
  
"You and Elladan have always gone through life side by side, from the moment you entered the world," Elrond said. "This is the first time you have been separated by experience, though there are far less harsh lessons I would have chosen. Perhaps I should have raised you to be more independent of each other."  
  
Elrohir smiled. "We would not have let you," he said. His smile faded as he considered his next words. "Ada, I have something to tell you," he started.  
  
"Anything, Elrohir."  
  
"I have sent word to Prince Legolas of what happened to Elladan." Elrohir's hand played nervously with the soft hem of the sheets.  
  
"I did not know Elladan was such close friends with the young Prince," Elrond replied, not fooled by his son's casual tone.  
  
"Closer than you would think." Elrohir glanced down, fully entranced by the thread count now. "He and Legolas are lovers."  
  
Elrond's jaw dropped for a split second before he groaned and dove under the covers. "How, Elrohir!"  
  
Elrohir could not pass that comment up. "Well, you see, Ada, when two Elves love each other very much…"  
  
"No, Elrohir, you know that is not what I meant!" Elrond cut him off as he resurfaced. "How did your brother get involved with the Prince of Mirkwood?"  
  
Elrohir shrugged. "We passed through the Wood Elves' land several times and they were kind enough to show us their hospitality. Legolas wished to come with us on our hunts, and we could find no reason not to let him join us. They…well…they were happy together." Elrohir's voice faded. He was not sure if his father would approve, after the bad blood between the House of Thranduil and their own after the Last Alliance.  
  
Elrond sighed. "I do not disapprove of Elladan's choice in mates, though I fear that affairs in Mirkwood will be stressed. And if there is love between them then I hope it will last, for our kind is known for long unions but short dalliances."  
  
"I believe it is love, though I have not yet felt it for myself."  
  
"You will, Elrohir, when you find someone you can share your soul with. It has always been your way, even when you were child."  
  
"I know," Elrohir said a little wistfully. "I only hope Elladan will be there when I do."  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay, I feel really bad because some people were disappointed that this story ended up having 1) slash and 2) Legolas in it. I know that slash certainly does NOT appeal to everyone, and I should have mentioned it earlier instead of wasting some people's time with this story. So, I'm sorry to all those people, and I added a warning in the summary for future reference. And thank you for the people who are sticking with the story. Now, for the fact that Legolas is in it, I actually thought about that a lot. I wanted a strong character to be Elladan's lover, and since the only female elf Tolkien presents is his *sister*--well, let's not go there. And I could have created an original character, but I didn't want to. And I'm the author. So there. But thank you for the reviews—good and bad—and keep them coming, even if it's to say how much I've messed up this story by putting Everyone's Favorite Elf ™ in it. 


	10. Chapter Ten

A/N: Thank you all so much for the support and comments! It's good to know I still have an audience to write for. And to Eledh—yes, I forgot about Galadriel, but let's not EVEN go there! I'm sure Lord Celeborn would kill me if I tried anything. ;) On to the story.  
  
Part 10:  
  
Another week passed, and a day came when it was unusually warm for the time of year. The denizens of Imladris hoped it would signal the beginning of an early spring. Even Elladan's spirits seemed raised, and he managed to get out of bed to sit in the sun by the window for a few hours. He even held a decent conversation with his father about the expectant mares that would foal that spring. Elrond hoped that Elladan would show some interest in choosing a new horse from the stables. However, the warm weather did not last, as twilight settled over the valley and storm clouds could be seen over the mountains.  
  
Elrohir stood at the windows in Elladan's room as his brother watched him from the bed. "Perhaps the clouds will not make it over the mountains," he commented idly.  
  
"Are the stars out tonight?" Elladan asked.  
  
"Yes, though the clouds are on the horizon. Do you want to see?" Elrohir asked, prepared to help his brother over to the window.  
  
"No," Elladan answered quickly.  
  
"Why do you ask the same question every night, Elladan? And every night you do not want to see the stars. Is not even the Valar's handiwork capable of bringing you joy anymore?"  
  
Elladan did not answer, but Elrohir did not expect him to. "We used to sing to the stars. We used to ride our horses under the canopy of night, just to feel the wind and taste the salt of the earth on the air. Do you not remember?"  
  
"I remember a night when the stars were not out and no light came at dawn," Elladan replied.  
  
"And yet there have been nearly a month's worth of dawns since that day. Do you not see that light at all?" Elrohir turned so that his back rested against the cool pane of the window. "I would trade places with you, if I could, Elladan. I did not want to leave you there, in the clutches of those monsters."  
  
Elladan's eyes flashed with the fire of a Balrog. "Do not say such a thing, Elrohir! Would you wish to be whipped and chained to the floor like an animal! Worse than an animal, for no living creature deserves to be so bound to cold stone. Would you wish to be poisoned so that the stones feel warm in comparison to your heart? Do you wish that your first time sharing your body was to be *raped* by an *orc*! Because that's what would hav—" Elladan broke off, his body wracked with chills and pain as his weakness caught up with his anger. He curled up on his side around the ache in his body.  
  
Elrohir was at his side immediately, petting his shoulder and trying to ease his breathing that came in short gasps and coughs. "No…" Elladan batted his brother's hand away. "Leave me!"  
  
Elrohir backed off the bed at Elladan's harsh command. He had never been spoken to so by his twin, no matter how bitter their bickering and sibling rivalry had become over centuries. Sobs stuck in his throat as he ran out of the room in search of his father. He nearly ran into Elrond and Glorfindel as they were walking towards Elladan's room.  
  
"Elladan needs you, Ada," he managed to say without betraying too much of his grief.  
  
Elrond ducked inside the room, though Glorfindel stayed in the hall with Elrohir. "What happened?" he asked the younger twin.  
  
"Nothing," Elrohir shrugged off the concern and continued down the hall.  
  
Glorfindel was torn between the pain in Elrohir's eyes and the cries coming from Elladan in the next room. Elrond's bark of "Glorfindel!" made his decision for him, and he turned into Elladan's room with one last glance down the hall at Elrohir's retreating figure.  
  
Elrond was seated on the bed, holding Elladan in a sitting position and trying to make him drink from a glass he held. "Glorfindel, please go fetch some towels, hot water and athelas," Elrond asked when he saw the blond enter the room.  
  
Glorfindel left to seek the requested items, surreptitiously looking for Elrohir as he did. His instincts told him that Elrohir was not in state of mind to be left alone at the moment.  
  
  
  
Elrohir did not know where he was headed as he left Glorfindel standing in the hall. His brother's harsh words made him feel ill. He knew it would have been better if he had been captured in Elladan's stead. Then he would be dead—for Elladan was right, he would have never survived the ordeal—and his family would simply grieve and carry on. Elladan would not be doomed to torment and slow death by grief and depression, living his last days in some strange half-life somewhere between the worlds of light and shadow.  
  
Elrohir found himself in the kitchens. It was late, and most every elf had retired to bed. He grabbed a bottle of strong red wine from the racks lining one wall and headed out doors. Perhaps the cold air would clear his senses and settle his stomach. He would ask the stars what he should do about Elladan—he feared only Illuvatar himself would know how to help his brother.  
  
He made his way down to the banks of the Bruinen, gulping the sweet wine as he went. He slipped on the wet stones, but caught himself on a low-hanging branch before he tumbled into the river. The water ran swift and cold, fed from the melting snows of the Misty Mountains and the recent rainfall. Elrohir sat heavily on the bank. He could hear distant thunder over the mountains, and it brought to mind the last rainstorm he was caught in while he was riding through the forest after rescuing Elladan. He shivered and wrapped his arms around his knees. There was a chill in the air and he had left without his cloak, so he took another long draught from the bottle to warm himself. Sighing, he let his emotions run out of him in the form of tears as he watched the dark swirl of the water below him and the swell of the clouds above.  
  
  
  
Glorfindel retired to bed late following the episode with Elladan. The young elf had suffered from another attack brought on by the poison and aggravated by the stress of the sudden changes in the weather. Or so Elrond had surmised. Glorfindel tended to believe that it had more to do with whatever upset Elrohir so.  
  
He had tried to find Elrohir, but none of the household knew where the younger twin was, or had seen him for the remainder of the evening. Glorfindel did not overly worry, as Elrohir's horse was still safely ensconced in the stables. He would resume the search in the morning, where the light of day would most likely find Elrohir returned to his brother's side.  
  
Glorfindel was just settling into the world of waking dreams when his door creaked open. "Who goes there?" he asked of the intruder. There was too little light to discern the features.  
  
The suddenness of his question startled the visitor, and Glorfindel winced at the sound of glass breaking. He leapt out of bed and quickly lit the candle by the bed. The light showed Elrohir standing just inside the door, the remnants of a broken wine bottle scattered at his bare feet.  
  
"Oh, by the Valar, Elrohir!" he said, relieved it was not an intruder with more deadly intent. "Stay where you are. You will cut your feet if you move overly much."  
  
Elrohir seemed to sway where he stood, but stayed put as Glorfindel swept up the broken glass. "Where have you been? I had most of the household looking for you."  
  
"Thinking," Elrohir answered, kneeling beside Glorfindel and trying to help him pick up the sharp pieces with clumsy fingers.  
  
Glorfindel sniffed. "Drinking is more like it," he muttered. "Did you consume the entire bottle? Nay, stay still. You are hindering more than helping."  
  
Elrohir sat back against the door until Glorfindel deemed it safe for him to walk on the bare floor. He helped the younger elf up and caught him around the shoulders as he swayed again. Elrohir responded by wrapping his arms about Glorfindel's waist. He leaned up to the taller blond and captured his lips in a bold kiss.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" Glorfindel squeaked, pushing Elrohir backwards and away from him.  
  
Elrohir rounded on him, cornering him against the bed. Glorfindel did not fear for his safety, but he did not want to hurt the young elf.  
  
"I've wanted you, Glorfindel," Elrohir confessed. "I've wanted you since the first time I saw you astride a horse, fierce and proud yet as gentle as any of the Firstborn has right to be."  
  
Glorfindel misjudged the position of the bed in his confusion and ended up falling onto it as he backed away from Elrohir. "Yes, I knew of your infatuation as a child, but I was sure you grew out of it long ago."  
  
Elrohir had a knee upon the bed and he leaned down, trapping Glorfindel with his weight. "I want you take me, Glorfindel. I have not taken a lover, and I will now." He was close enough to Glorfindel that the elder elf could feel the heat of his arousal, and knew it to be no bluff on Elrohir's part. The realization of the situation hit him.  
  
"You are drunk, Elrohir! You shame yourself by assuming you can push me, Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower, into defaming the son of the very Lord I serve!" He pushed Elrohir off of his chest and twisted to throw him onto the bed.  
  
Elrohir stared at him wide eyes, silenced by his own actions and the regard of the Elf Lord towering over him.  
  
"Your seductions need much practice, Elrohir, but I suggest you practice them elsewhere. As it is, I will escort you to your own bed for the night."  
  
Glorfindel hauled Elrohir to his feet and marched him back to his own room like a wayward child, closing the door firmly behind him in his wake.  
  
"Surely the Valar could have found a better task for me than this," he muttered as he made his way back to his bed. "I do not care if the Balrog himself returns for Elrohir tonight, I will not be moved from this bed 'till morning!" 


	11. Chapter Eleven

A/N: Short chapter I wrote between classes this morning. It seems as though I've been neglecting Elladan lately *gasp*. I mean, who is this story REALLY about, right? ;) So, more Elrohir later.  
  
Part 11:  
  
Elladan woke late the next morning, though the sun was obscured by threatening rain clouds, making it difficult to tell the exact hour. A few drops splattered on the pane. He wished it would just make up its mind and pour, for then it would suit his mood far better.  
  
Elladan had not seen Elrohir since the night before. Indeed, he did not even hear word of him. Usually when Elrohir disappeared for any length of time his father or Erestor or Glorfindel would come in with reports of whatever trouble his younger brother had gotten himself into. Last time it was dousing Erestor while he was washing the horses, claiming that he could not tell the difference by the smell. The memory was not enough to bring a smile to his face, and he realized that his words from the night before must have struck deeper than he thought they would, to make Elrohir stay away from him for so long. Any other time and Elrohir would have laid into him with his own verbal barbs, but last night he had absorbed his words in silence.  
  
There was a rapping on the door as Erestor stuck his head in. "Elladan?" he called softly, checking if he was awake.  
  
Elladan pushed himself into a sitting position to greet the councilor. "I'm awake, Erestor. What has my brother done this time?"  
  
Erestor frowned as he entered the room. He was carrying a rather long object, wrapped in brown and green cloth. "Nothing that I have knowledge of. I came to bring you a parcel. It came from Mirkwood this morning."  
  
Erestor laid the object in Elladan's hands. He unwrapped the cloth to reveal a stunning longbow, carved in the fashion of the finest archers of Mirkwood. The dark wood was inlaid with gold in the figures of trailing vines and leaves, and a finely wrought star in the center of the grip. A note fluttered to the bed from the wrapping:  
  
"Elladan—  
  
I heard you were in need of a new bow. Heal quickly, and we will ride together soon.  
  
--Legolas"  
  
Erestor did not miss the surprise in Elladan's face turn to disappointment as he read the note. Elladan let the bow fall to the blankets as he collapsed against the pillows, a few tears escaping down his cheek. Erestor reached over him to finger the bow.  
  
"'Tis a fine bow, Elladan. Perhaps the finest bow I have ever seen," he tried to console him.  
  
"Yes, it is," Elladan said his voice cracking.  
  
"And Elladan," he continued absently. "It was hand delivered."  
  
Elladan's eyes turned towards him in confusion, then looked past him as an elf dressed all in brown and green entered the room. Elladan's tears came in earnest as the Prince of Mirkwood approached the bed to sit on the edge.  
  
"Did you truly believe I wouldn't come?" Legolas laughed as he enfolded his friend and recent lover in a tight embrace.  
  
Elladan didn't notice as Erestor silently took his leave. "How did you know? I did not send for you. Verily, no one in Imladris even knows about us!"  
  
"No one, Elladan?" Legolas questioned. "Do you forget your twin brother so easily? It was Elrohir who sent for me. He told me I must come, for you had been grievously wounded, so I rode on the wings of the storm that has pursued me since I left my father's realm." He sat back and looked Elladan over. His light fingers traced over the hollow cheeks and dark circles that shadowed Elladan's eyes. "Alas, I see it is true. Your wounds are deeper than I had wont to believe."  
  
Elladan looked away. He wanted to smile and say 'No, Legolas, 'tis nothing!' but the lie wouldn't leave his lips. "Aye," he said quietly instead. "Wounds deeper than even elven eyes can see. Perhaps…perhaps it would have been better if you hadn't come."  
  
Legolas responded by kicking off his boots and stretching out next to Elladan on the bed. He let the bow clatter to the floor, forgotten. "You will not get rid of me so easily," he chuckled. "Now, your father said he would have my head if I did anything to slow your recovery. *My* father said he would have my head if I was indeed involved with the young Lord of Imladris or his twin brother—I do not think he can tell you apart. So it seems as though the destiny of my head is in your hands. Act like it."  
  
Elladan was taken aback by the comment but by the time he could think of anything to say, Legolas was asleep, exhausted by his long flight from the storm and wrath of his father. Elladan pulled the blankets over him and tried to return to sleep, but his thoughts would not settle. His mind was not on the blond by his side, but on wherever Elrohir could be, and what kind of mess he had gotten himself into this time. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

A/N: What, do I hear people asking for Elrohir/Glorfindel slash?? I hadn't thought about making it serious between the two, but maybe you can convince me…. ;) Oh, and a big thank you to those people who pointed out mistakes in previous chapters so I can go back and fix them!  
  
Part 12:  
  
Elrohir woke with the sound of thunder crashing overhead. He jumped out of his bed and immediately fell back with a groan. He felt like he'd been trampled by a herd of wild horses and his vision wavered from the worst headache of his long, long life. He laid back panting and getting his bearings. For some reason, he was still wearing his clothes from the night before, though he had no memory of going to bed. The last thing he remembered was sitting by the edge of the river after he made Elladan upset.  
  
Then Elrohir remembered. It was cold outside, and he tried to drown his sorrow in a bottle of feywine. And he had gotten it into his thick head that he should try to seduce Glorfindel.  
  
He felt sick. Elves could easily die of grief--maybe they could die of embarrassment also. No, Elrohir thought, that would be far, far too easy an escape, even it meant scrubbing the floors of the Halls of Mandos for the rest of eternity.  
  
Elrohir stumbled to the wash basin and splashed cold water over his face. He tried to decide who he should apologize to first—his brother, sick, injured and maybe dying in the next room, or a reborn Elf Lord known for taking Balrogs with him to the grave. He considered his choices as he changed his robes. Elladan was closer, he reasoned. And it wouldn't really be proper to let Glorfindel kill him before he apologized to his brother anyway.  
  
He steeled himself as he opened the door to the conjoined room. He peeked around the corner to see if Elladan was sleeping. Elladan was not in bed-- Legolas was sleeping where his brother should have been. It seemed as though Elrohir had indeed missed a lot that morning.  
  
"Elrohir," a soft, clear voice called to him.  
  
Elrohir's head whipped around to see Elladan seated by the window. He had been watching Legolas sleep when his brother's head popped into the room.  
  
"Where have you been?" Elladan asked.  
  
"You told me to leave last night. I did."  
  
"You have never listened to me before. I did not think you would choose now to do so."  
  
Elrohir came fully into the room and closed the door softly behind him. He couldn't think of an answer and his eyes cast around the room desperately. "Are you well, Elrohir? You don't look it." Elladan asked.  
  
"I…had a bit much to drink last night." Elrohir couldn't believe the malice in his brother's voice.  
  
"Oh."  
  
Twin eyes met silently for a moment. Elrohir fell to his knees in front of Elladan's chair. "I'm sorry for my words last night, Elladan. I did not mean—"  
  
"You did not think, Elrohir. That has forever been your problem."  
  
Elrohir's world crumbled in on him. The elf seated in front of him was not his brother. He could not be the same brother whose arms he had cried in when their mother left for the Havens. The real Elladan would never hurt him like that. He licked suddenly dry lips and pushed himself off the cold floor.  
  
"If that is how you feel, Elladan, then I will not trouble you again. We used to be of one mind on all things, and I know now that it will never be that way again if you cannot sense how truly sorry I am."  
  
Elrohir turned on his heel and left the room. Legolas blinked blearily from the bed, not quite believing the exchange he had just overheard. Elladan sat staring at his hands.  
  
  
  
Elrohir raced to his father's rooms, but the Lord was not there. He could not think of whom else to turn to. He would have gone to his mother had she still been there. There was no way he could face Glorfindel, and Erestor would never understand. He collapsed into his father's armchair before the fire, burying his tears in his hands.  
  
Elrond entered his rooms to see his son sobbing in a chair by the fire. Elrohir's long black hair was tangled and fell in a curtain around him, hiding his face.  
  
"Elrohir? Why are you crying?" Elrond asked, coming to stand by the chair.  
  
"He hates me! Elladan hates me!" Elrohir said in hiccups.  
  
"Oh, Elrohir!" Elrond sighed. He pulled another chair to sit directly across from Elrohir, close enough that their knees touched. "Elladan doesn't hate you. He hates himself right now, and he's lashing out at you because he doesn't know what else to do."  
  
"But Ada, everything I say or do…it just angers him more. I don't think I could face him again, but I can't just leave him alone."  
  
"Yes, I know. He needs his family and people he loves to be with him, but it's a little hard to be near him at the moment."  
  
Thunder crashed above them, making Elrohir jump. His father put a steadying hand on his knee.  
  
"I wish your mother was here," Elrond murmured. "She could always handle your brother better than anyone."  
  
Elrohir nodded. "He was her favorite, though," he said.  
  
"They were forged with the same fire."  
  
Glorfindel walked into the room, idly singing to himself. He stopped in shock when he saw the nerve-wrought twin and Lord Elrond.  
  
"What's the matter?" he asked. "Elrohir, if this is about last night, do not worry yourself so. It was not so great a matter as to deserve such tears!"  
  
Elrond looked up at his captain in concern. "What happened last night?"  
  
Elrohir and Glorfindel looked at each other quickly. "Nothing!" they replied in unison.  
  
Elrond raised an eyebrow at the strange conspiracy, but let it rest. He would hear of it later if it was of any consequence.  
  
Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass and shouting voices leaking in through the open door demanded all of their attention. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

A/N: So, I was thinking about putting Glorfindel/Elrohir slash in this story, but I don't think that they're going to want to sleep together after all the embarrassing stunts Elrohir has pulled lately! I will probably give Elrohir his own story later, though, after I finish this one. Here's the next part. (Hmm…13 was lucky for Bilbo. Maybe this part will bring in review #100!) ;)  
  
Part 13:  
  
Legolas heard the door to Elladan's room slam in Elrohir's wake. The conversation between the brothers had woken him from his light doze. He hadn't been able to fully fall asleep because of Elladan's restlessness, and there was apparently more than worry for his brother keeping his love from peace. He lay there for a while, listening to the deadly silence in the room, but then he could take it no longer. He sat up and rubbed the rest of the sleep from his eyes.  
  
"What was that about?" he asked Elladan.  
  
Elladan was still staring at his folded hands, but he stood up at Legolas's question. "Nothing that concerns you," he replied. He steadied himself on the window sill—his leg still would not hold his weight for long.  
  
"I came here to help you recover, but I may as well leave if you're going to wallow in self-pity."  
  
"I am not wallowing!" Elladan snapped. "Do you even know what happened to me before you pass such judgment?"  
  
Legolas shrugged. "Yes, I know. I spoke to your father when I arrived."  
  
Elladan bit his lip to keep the tears from his eyes as he turned to stare out of the window. "How can you know and still lie in a bed with me?" His voice was strangely quiet. Thunder roared outside the window as the rain fell harder.  
  
"It was not your fault, Elladan. Neither was it Elrohir's for leaving you there, or Lord Elrond's or Lord Glorfindel's for not riding fast enough to your rescue. They have told you this," Legolas pointed out. "Why do you not believe them?"  
  
Elladan turned to face him, anger showing again on his fair features. "Why do you think that you can show up and tell me this and that everything will magically be better? What makes you so special that you can heal me when no one else can?"  
  
Legolas did not let his eyes drop from Elladan's. "I did not claim that," he defended himself. "But I will not run away. I will not leave you until this is resolved, no matter it be days or weeks or centuries. If there is one thing we have, it is time. And love." He barely ducked as a vase flew over his head to hit the wall behind him.  
  
"What do you know of love?" Elladan spat. He was shaking with rage and pain. "It cannot protect you from anything."  
  
Legolas covered the distance between them and spun Elladan around to face him. "I know more of love than you do, or you would not hurt your brother as you did, and you would not make me witness of it!"  
  
"I know not what else to do," he said. "I do not know how to act, or how to think, or what to say anymore."  
  
Legolas resisted the urge to shake the elf. Strange, that he was the physical one when Elladan was taller and more powerfully built than he. Still, Elladan was not himself at the moment. He pushed Elladan back down into the chair.  
  
"If Elrohir's love cannot heal you then mine cannot either. Seek shores other than these if you must, but do not hurt the ones you love because all you feel is pain!" Legolas said. "I see the sea in your eyes, the same as in my dreams."  
  
"I cannot, Legolas…I am afraid," his voice was little more than a whisper.  
  
"Elrohir would go with you, if you asked," Legolas said.  
  
"No, he wouldn't. His love for Arda is still too strong. It is why we did not go west with our mother. Would you go with me, if I asked?"  
  
Legolas shook his head. "No, I would not."  
  
"See? I am alone in this world, and I would be alone in the next. I have never been alone. Not since Elrohir and I were born."  
  
"Elrohir is at your side always. Wherever you go, whatever you do, you are in his heart. As you are in mine. Is that enough for you?"  
  
Elladan bit his lip and shook his head. "No, but maybe someday it will be."  
  
Legolas smiled. "'Tis a start," he said. He leaned over and kissed Elladan's lips. "You must share your pain and your grief before it kills you, but you cannot inflict it on others. You will send your brother and your father to the grave if you continue to treat them so! If you need to yell or scream or throw vases at my head, so be it. But apologize to Elrohir for he has suffered so much already."  
  
"I will, for I am sorry that I have hurt him so." Elladan swiped at the tears that ran down his face. "All I seem to do is cry anymore," he said ruefully.  
  
"There is not shame it in, though perhaps the Man's blood in you tells you there is," Legolas said. He took Elladan's hands in his. "Now, shall I go fetch your brother?"  
  
"He has fetched himself," a voice said from the doorway.  
  
Legolas and Elladan turned to see Elrohir, Elrond and Glorfindel crowding the now open doorway. Legolas had the grace to blush as he realized that the Lords must have overheard their rather heated argument.  
  
"We heard shouting and breaking glass," Elrond said, more of a question than a statement.  
  
Legolas was about to answer for Elladan, but Elladan squeezed his hands. "I'm sorry, Father," he said, in a more civil tone than he had used in weeks. "Legolas and I were having a…discussion over my recent behavior and I broke a vase."  
  
Elrond looked at the position of the shattered glass and the wet spot on the far wall. "I see," he said, eyebrows raised. "And the issue is resolved now? Or should I be sending the young Prince on his way?" he asked warningly.  
  
Elladan shook his head. "The issue is settled for now, Father."  
  
Elrond nodded. "Then I will leave you to yourselves," he said, sensing that all was not resolved, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.  
  
Elrond turned and left. Glorfindel looked the room over in a glance, then shoved Elrohir into the center of the chamber. "I am sure Elrohir will be happy to help you clean up," he said. "After all, he has had much practice lately in picking up broken glass." With that, he took his leave, closing the door behind him.  
  
Elrohir stood in silence in the middle of the room, looking anywhere but his brother's eyes. Legolas looked from one brother to the other in expectation, but he was determined not to force them into anything. He busied himself with picking up the broken vase. Finally, Elladan rose and stood in front of Elrohir.  
  
"I'm sorry, Elrohir, for the way I've been acting towards you lately," he said quietly.  
  
"Oh, Elladan, you need not be sorry! I only wish I could understand what you've been through better. I wish I knew what you needed from me to recover," Elrohir said.  
  
"I need my brother, my twin, the one who knows me better than anyone else in this world," Elladan said. "And there is no excuse for my abuse of you."  
  
Elrohir replied by simply wrapping his arms around his brother, sufficiently tackling him to the bed. He turned so that he took the impact and Elladan landed neatly on top of him. "All is forgiven ten times over, Elladan!"  
  
"Apparently so!" Elladan said, smiling at his brother's antics. Elrohir beamed. It was the first hint of a smile he had seen on Elladan's face since the entire ordeal began.  
  
Elladan stretched out on the bed, reaching his hand out for Legolas to join them. Legolas mopped up the last of the water off the floor with a cloth and wiped his hands before crawling onto the bed with the twins. Elrohir moved over so that Elladan fit between them. Lightning flashed outside of the window.  
  
"Listen," Elladan said. He counted the seconds between the lightning flash and the accompanying thunder. "The storm is passing." 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

A/N: Short chapter, due to real life and all that. Thanks for reviews and all the feedback I've been getting. I feel so loved! *sniff*  
  
Part 14:  
  
The last of the winter storms passed over Imladris, turning the skies clear blue in their wake. The days started to lengthen and the first hints of green appeared on bare branches. Legolas stayed with Elladan through the days and nights and, slowly, Elladan's strength finally began to return. Elrohir spent most of his time with his brother, though he was perceptive enough to sense when he and Legolas needed time alone. Then he would be found in the stables or in his father's study, catching up on reading he was unable to do on his long journeys away from home.  
  
Glorfindel entered the stables, leading Asfaloth to his stall. He had been away on a long patrol since the day after the storm passed. He was clearing the paths and roads in preparation for the travelers who would journey to Imladris for the New Year's celebration. He spied Elrohir grooming his own mare a few stalls down. Glorfindel smiled at the sight; he had not seen Elrohir since he shoved him into Elladan's room after the fight. Elrohir looked at peace, he noted. That was a good sign.  
  
Glorfindel ensured his horse was comfortable, and then he went to lean against the stall where the younger Elf was. "How goes it, Elrohir?" he asked.  
  
Elrohir looked up, startled. He had been engrossed in his own thoughts and did not notice Glorfindel enter the stable.  
  
"Well enough, my lord," he replied. Glorfindel noticed the blush that tinted the points of his ears and the formality in his tone.  
  
"And your brother? Has Legolas thrown him into the river yet?"  
  
Elrohir smiled, though his gaze was still turned towards his horse's neck. "No, though now it may be the other way around. Elladan grows stronger every day. His spirit is tempered with Legolas's fire."  
  
Elrohir licked his lips and set down the curry comb. "Lord Glorfindel, I would do well to apologize for the embarrassment I caused you that night. I overstepped my boundaries, and I will not do so again."  
  
Glorfindel smiled genuinely. "I know well the actions that can be caused by drinking too much wine, and I daresay you were more embarrassed than I. Your apology is accepted, and I think that it would be best to forget about the incident."  
  
Elrohir smiled as he picked up the brush again. "Truly," Glorfindel continued. "Is your brother well?"  
  
Elrohir considered the question. "Yes, he is much better, though not fully healed yet. Father says that his blood finally runs clear, but he still has his moods. Legolas is the most help when Elladan falls into depression or anger; he does not let Elladan run away from his problems as I have wont to do." Elrohir shrugged in a self-depreciating manner.  
  
"Yet I hear that you are the only one who can keep him from his night terrors," Glorfindel commented. "Do not think your love or support any less than Legolas's."  
  
Elrohir smiled. "I do not," he said. "But I know there are things I cannot help him with. I am glad Legolas is here." He stepped out of his mare's stall, giving her a kiss on the nose and an apple from his pocket before he turned towards the house with Glorfindel.  
  
"Lady Arwen arrives tomorrow," Glorfindel said.  
  
Elrohir looked up excited. "She arrives earlier this year," he said. "Does she worry for Elladan?"  
  
"Of course, though she would not insult him by racing the storms as Legolas did, as he specifically asked her not to."  
  
Elrohir laughed outright. "She never listens to him, not since she learned that she could outride him when he became angry. But it is good that she waited at least this long."  
  
"So as not to anger Elladan further?"  
  
"No! So that *she* would not throw him into the river!"  
  
  
  
  
  
Elladan sighed into the air, but it was a sound of contentment. He felt better than he had in weeks, with his wounds hardly paining him anymore and the sure feeling of strength returning to his limbs, albeit slowly. He still had to be careful not to tire himself overly so, but someone was always there to remind him.  
  
Now, the afternoon sun shone in through the open window, falling in golden streaks upon the fair hair of his companion. Legolas dozed beside him, having fallen asleep reading. Elladan took the book from his slack hands and marked the page before setting it aside. He curled his body against the other Elf, nuzzling into the heavy silk of his hair. He loved Legolas's scent, like trees and rivers and summer sunshine. Legolas told him once that he himself smelled like mist and moonlight, with a hint of the Bruinen running through his blood. A good combination, Elladan decided, settling down for a nap.  
  
A soft knock on the door sounded just as he closed his eyes. He rubbed his face and sat up again as his father entered the room. Elrond crossed over to the bed and sat beside it.  
  
"Did I wake you?" he asked, noting Legolas still asleep.  
  
"No, Ada, I was not sleeping. Legolas just bored himself with some book."  
  
Elrond smiled and laid a hand on his son's cheek. "How are you feeling?" he asked gently.  
  
"Better," Elladan was happy he could answer truthfully. "I feel well today, though yesterday was not as good, and perhaps tomorrow will not be either."  
  
Elrond was glad that he was accepting his temporary limitations. "Your sister comes tomorrow. She begs your forgiveness if she has insulted you by ignoring your requests."  
  
Elladan's eyes lit up. "I will be too happy to see her to be insulted. I would, however, like to meet her at the gates when she arrives, as has been mine and Elrohir's custom."  
  
Elrond nodded. "I do not see why custom should be broken," he said. "And it will comfort her greatly to see you at the gate when she arrives."  
  
Elladan sighed wistfully, barely wincing at the tiny hitch of pain in his ribs. "It will be good to have our family together again."  
  
Neither father nor son spoke of the one member who would forever be missing. But Elrond saw something in Elladan's eyes that had never been there before. It was acceptance, for he more than anyone now knew why Celebrian had chosen to leave her family behind to sail west.  
  
Unconsciously, Elladan laid a hand on Legolas's arm, as if assuring himself that he was still there, alive and merely sleeping next to him. Elrond noticed the movement, but did not comment on it. He was fully aware of the strange moods that still descended upon Elladan at times, though they were growing less and less frequent. He rose and bent to kiss his son's forehead.  
  
"Rest now and I will come get you for dinner," he said. "Tomorrow will surely be a taxing day, though we could always let Elrohir and Arwen wear each other out."  
  
"That sounds like a reasonable option to me," Elladan replied.  
  
"Go to sleep!" Elrond admonished.  
  
Elladan lay back down and closed his eyes dutifully as his father left, quietly closing the door behind him. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

A/N: This part is a little slow, but it's necessary. The next part will probably be the New Year's celebration, and then back to the angst. I have to give them a little fun break, don't I? ;)  
  
GRATUITOUS SELF-PROMOTION: Pssst! Hey you! Yeah, you! Have you read my other stories? No? You should….. ;)  
  
Sorry, had to put that in. On to the story:  
  
Part 15:  
  
It was a merry procession that wound its way down the mountain paths of the hidden valley of Imladris. Sunlight glinted off the golden tack of the horses as the tiny bells affixed to their headstalls jingled brightly. Sweet Elven voices sang to the tune of the bells and the percussion of hoof beats.  
  
Elladan was able to make it down the stair under his own power, though Elrohir hovered slightly behind him, to ensure he did not stumble on the odd steps leading to the courtyard. Elladan waved him off briskly, but Elrohir shrugged and remained close to his side. They waited at the gate, standing serenely until the first horses appeared across the stone bridge. Their sister was in the lead astride her white palfrey, followed by her escort and various Lorien Elves who were interested in visiting Imladris for the changing of the seasons. One of the guards also led a great black stallion who was without tack or a rider.  
  
Arwen dismounted and handed her horse off to a waiting groom before Elrohir swept her into a strong embrace.  
  
"Elrohir!" she gasped, kissing his cheek.  
  
Elrohir released her and she turned to Elladan, who was standing calmly to the side, smiling at his siblings' welcome to each other. She took his hands in both of hers and stared hard into his eyes. She noted the thinness of his face in comparison to his twin, and the slightly haunted look his eyes still held.  
  
"You are well?" she asked for his ears only.  
  
"Yes, sister," he answered, equally quiet. "You needn't worry."  
  
Arwen nodded, but took his arm firmly as she turned her brothers back to the house. "Let us go find Father," she said. "I bring greetings from Lothlorien for you all."  
  
The three siblings left for the house, leaving Erestor to care for the guests. No one commented if they noticed Elladan leaning slightly on his sister as they ascended the steps.  
  
  
  
Legolas perched on the paddock fence, munching on an apple as he watched the Elven horses frolic in the new green grass. The Lorien horses had been turned out to pasture and mingled with the Imladris herd. Among them was a beautiful stallion that he found his eyes drawn to time and again. Bell- like laughter and soft steps tore him away from his observations. He turned to see the twins and Lady Arwen coming down the path to the pasture. Legolas jumped off the fence to greet the fair Lady properly.  
  
"My Lady Arwen," he said, bowing to her. "I trust your journey from Lothlorien was safe?"  
  
"Yes, Prince Legolas," she replied, clasping his arm. "I thank you for looking after my brothers when I could not."  
  
Legolas glanced to Elladan with a questioning look. Elladan nodded slightly, but Arwen caught the gesture. "Do not worry, Legolas. Elladan has told me that you have stolen his heart, and I am happy for you both."  
  
Legolas let out the breath he had been holding. "Thank you, my Lady." He grinned. "I admit, I almost feared for your reaction more than Lord Elrond's."  
  
Arwen laughed, but pulled Elladan forward so he stood next to Legolas at the fence. "Look, brother," she said. "Do you see that stallion there? The black with the white star on its forehead?"  
  
"Yes. It is a magnificent animal. Whose mount is he?" Elladan asked, leaning on the fence.  
  
"He is a gift, from our grandfather Celeborn for you," Arwen said, her eyes shining in the sun. "He is a stallion, born of the King's line of horses in Rohan and crossed with the Elvish breeds kept in Lorien. Call him and he will come, for he is trained in the style of the elves."  
  
Elrohir had climbed the fence by now, and he looked to his sister. "What is his name?" he asked excitedly.  
  
"Mornel."  
  
"Mornel," Elladan whispered. Then louder, "Mornel!" he called.  
  
The black horse picked up his head and its ears swiveled in the direction of the voice. He obediently trotted over to the fence and bowed his head to regard the group of young elves. Elladan hesitantly put out a hand and the horse nuzzled it carefully. Mornel could sense something different about this young elf, though he looked so similar to the one sitting on the fence.  
  
"Do you want to mount him?" Elrohir asked in his bubbly voice.  
  
"I don't think I can," Elladan said. He hadn't been on a horse since the attack. Indeed, this was the most he'd been out of the house at all.  
  
Legolas had stayed quiet, but he leapt over the fence with one fluid movement. He leaned up to whisper in Mornel's ear. The horse's intelligent eyes regarded Elladan again, studying him.  
  
"Come," Legolas said, reaching out a hand to help Elladan over the fence. "I'll help you, if you wish."  
  
Elladan frowned, but climbed over the low fence to stand at the horse's side. Mornel stood as still as stone, apparently trying not to startle the sick Elf who was his new master. Elladan reached up to grasp the thick mane in one hand and pulled himself onto Mornel's back as Legolas steadied him with strong hands around his waist. Legolas kept his hand on his knee until he was sure that Elladan was balanced properly. He stepped back, though Elladan gave him a startled look.  
  
"He will not let you fall," Legolas assured him.  
  
Elladan calmed as he noticed that the horse under him was indeed careful and seemed to understand his own nervousness. He patted the sleek neck and Mornel began to move off in a slow walk. Elladan kept his death grip on his mane as Mornel moved into a trot across the pasture.  
  
"Well," he said to the horse as his ears flicked back at the sound of his voice. "I am Elladan. I am sorry if I am hard to carry right now, but--" Elladan's voice was cut off as Mornel sped off in a canter.  
  
Elladan gritted his teeth and stiffened, but Mornel kept his gait smooth and steady. The grip on his mane loosened and Mornel whinnied in appreciation as Elladan relaxed. The horse took him on a long round of the pasture before stopping again in front of the other elves. The blond one—the one who had told him to be careful because Elladan was hurt and a little scared—was still standing on the grass waiting for them to return.  
  
Legolas felt his racing pulse calm as Mornel halted smoothly in front of him. Elladan was laughing, though he was noticeably paler. Legolas reached up to guide him to the ground and Elladan stood unsteadily, shaking in Legolas's grip, but his eyes shone with a joy they had not seen for a long time.  
  
Elladan turned to the stallion, laying his cheek against the soft nose. "Thank you, my friend," he said. "We will race together soon."  
  
He turned the horse back out to the grass and climbed back over the fence. Arwen was watching him carefully, but she smiled when she heard him laugh again.  
  
"Oh, how can something that hurts so much feel so good?" Elladan laughed.  
  
Elrohir started towards him in alarm, but Elladan stopped him. "Nay, brother. I am fine. I have just been abed for too long."  
  
"I have a feeling Father would not agree," Elrohir said, but let Elladan walk back to the house unhindered.  
  
Legolas followed the family a few paces back, singing to himself and the horses as he walked. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this part out, but I got a bit distracted writing this. I wanted to include the entire New Years festival in one part, but it got too long, and it's 2 am where I am at right now. So, the actual festival will be in the next part. On a better note, I finally got around to a Glorfindel/Elrohir ficlet called "The Cry of the Eagle." I posted it earlier today, so you should be able to find it if you are interested. I am considering it a prequel to this story, as it expounds on the crush Elrohir developed on Glorfindel. I think you would call it "preslash" at this point. But don't worry; "Somewhere Between" is far from over! As always, reviews are treasured!! (And I will try to have the next part up faster this time!) ((Wow, this was a long author's note!))  
  
Part 16:  
  
Glorfindel stared harder from his seat at the window. He could see the stables and the paddocks beyond from his vantage point, and his sharp eyes had been watching the twins, along with their sister and Legolas. He watched as Elladan—he could swear it was Elladan—mounted a powerful looking black stallion and cantered around the field.  
  
"Should Elladan be riding?" he asked Elrond, who was perusing a scroll brought from Lothlorien for his inspection.  
  
"No," he said, looking up at Glorfindel. Glorfindel did not appear alarmed, but raised his eyebrows as his gaze returned out the window.  
  
"Unless my eyes deceive me, or I am not as familiar with your sons as I thought I was, that is Elladan riding through the pasture," he continued casually.  
  
Elrond stepped up to the window and looked out. His eyes narrowed as he confirmed that it was indeed the older twin astride the horse.  
  
"He's going to fall…" Elrond whispered to himself. But the horse halted and Elladan was helped down without harm.  
  
"He's fine," Glorfindel said. "He seems well enough that a fall off a horse would not kill him anyway."  
  
"He's not well enough," Elrond said curtly. "And he certainly should not be riding alone on a strange stallion. He does not know that horse's temperament."  
  
"And would you keep him from petting stray dogs also?" Glorfindel chuckled.  
  
"Yes," Elrond replied. "I would lock him in these halls if I had a choice. Elrohir also, and Arwen would go in the south wing. I am their father. I have every right to feel protective."  
  
Laughter floated down the hall, echoing off the stone and wood architecture. Elrond folded his hands in his robes and turned away from the window. Elrohir bounced into the room, followed closely by Arwen and Elladan. Legolas lagged behind, humming softly to himself.  
  
"Father, you should see this horse!" Elrohir said.  
  
"I have seen the black stallion, if that is what you refer to," Elrond replied, though he was looking at Elladan. Elladan seemed unhurt, though there was a slight tremor in his hands that he could not still. But he was smiling brightly, as he had not done for many days. "You should not have been riding, Elladan," Elrond admonished gently.  
  
"I'm sorry Father," Elladan said. "But I am fine, as I keep trying to tell everyone here."  
  
Legolas closed his eyes and leaned against the door. He recognized the mood swing that was coming on.  
  
"What we say and what is true are seldom the same," Elrond countered, laying a hand on Elladan's shoulder.  
  
Elladan's sparkling eyes turned icy grey. "You cannot keep treating me as though I was made of blown glass," he said, shrugging off his father's arm. "How am I to heal if I am not even allowed out of my own room?"  
  
Elrond sighed as Elrohir quietly took Arwen and slipped out of the room. Glorfindel and Legolas did not move from their respective spots. "Elladan, I know it is hard when you are young, but you must give yourself more time. If you do not, you will delay the time it takes you to be fully well again."  
  
"I. Am. Fine."  
  
Elrond gathered his son into a tight embrace. "I do not want to lose you. I came so close, so very close, and I want to keep you safe and protected. I do that for this valley; why can I not do that for my own children? I already lost your mother. I could not bear losing a son."  
  
Elladan writhed free of his father's arms. "Lost Mother? You let her go! You LET her go! Your love was not strong enough to hold her here. Why could you not love her more? Why could WE not love her more?" His voice broke as it hadn't done in weeks. "Why can you not let me go?" he whispered.  
  
Elladan turned and ran from the room, Legolas on his trail. Elrond sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands. Glorfindel moved to his side and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Why am I not the one running after him?" Elrond asked. "It should be me."  
  
"Elladan is high-strung right now," Glorfindel reasoned. "He is not himself."  
  
"When will I get *my* Elladan back?" Elrond asked the air. He sighed. "I am the healer, and I should know the answer. Perhaps never."  
  
"Do not think that, my Lord," Glorfindel said.  
  
  
  
"I *know* my own limits and abilities," Elladan ranted as he stormed back to his room. "Why can he not see that?"  
  
Legolas caught up to him and stopped him in the hall. "You do not see yourself as we see you. You would never show your temper as you just did to your father. That should be an indication in itself."  
  
Elladan's shoulders slumped, the mood leaving him as quickly as it came on. He turned around and nearly raced back to his father. Elrond looked up, shocked at the quick return of his son.  
  
"I am sorry, Ada," Elladan said, throwing himself into Elrond's arms. "I do not know what comes over me at times. I had no right to speak to you in such a way."  
  
Elrond bent his head down to whisper in Elladan's ear. "You wound me with words, my son, but it is but a trifle of what I would endure if it lessens your burden," Elrond said.  
  
He held Elladan for a long time in silence. When he looked up again, Legolas and Glorfindel had gone, leaving them alone. Elrond urged Elladan up, and caught his arm when he nearly fell on unsure legs. Elrond said nothing; he sat Elladan back down in the chair and went to the sideboard to pour a glass of miruvor. He placed the glass in Elladan's hands and made sure he sipped from it before releasing his son from his piercing gaze. The invigorating liquor cleared Elladan's head and he smiled his appreciation.  
  
"I hope you have not overtaxed yourself to the point that you cannot enjoy tomorrow's festivities," Elrond said.  
  
"I will retire early tonight, to ensure that I am rested," Elladan reassured his father.  
  
Elrond nodded. "That would be wise. But for now, come show me your new stallion. Just stay on the ground this time!"  
  
  
  
Dawn breathed a new life into the hallways of Imladris. Harps and flutes accompanied Elvish voices to greet the sun as she rose over the Misty Mountains and blessed the valley below. People traveled from near and far to be present for the greeting of the dawn of the New Year at Imladris, and spirits ran high. Bright tents covered the green lawns from the porches of the Great House itself to the banks of the Bruinen. The dining hall windows were flung open to allow the sweet breeze to rustle the ribbons and flowers that adorned the pillars and walls. Already, elves were preparing for the feast that would take place that night, and wonderful scents wafted out from the kitchens.  
  
Every available outdoor space was utilized for some purpose or another. A racetrack was plotted past the river and through the trees for those who wished to boast their horsemanship skills; areas for dancing and singing on raised daises were set in the gardens; targets were set in the main courtyard for the premier event—and archery contest held every year.  
  
Elrohir dashed between grooming his horse for a race that morning and looking in on his still sleeping brother. Arwen, dressed in a white gown that looked as though it was spun from the purest clouds, greeted the maidens and ladies who hailed from far away courts. Elrond left Glorfindel and Erestor to see to the finish of the dawn ceremony as he crept away to his son's chambers.  
  
Elrond entered Elladan's room to find him freshly awoken and sitting at the ornate dressing table. Legolas stood behind him, weaving his ebony locks into an intricate braid pattern, leaving the bottom half to trail down his back in a soft mass. Elrond smiled at the charming scene, almost afraid to interrupt. Legolas was almost finished, though, and he greeted the lord with a bright smile as he tied off the final braid.  
  
"That should hold for a while," Legolas said, tugging on Elladan's hair teasingly.  
  
"I should say, though I believe we have missed the dawn ceremony with all your fussing," Elladan countered.  
  
"You have not awoken in time for the dawn ceremony in fifty years, Elladan," Elrond said from his position in the doorway.  
  
Elladan shrugged sheepishly as he rose. Elrond smiled in pride at the stunning figure his son presented. He was dressed in robes for a change, instead of his usual functional tunic and leggings, as he would not be competing in any of the sports this year. The robe was of twilight blue velvet, overlaid by detailed stitching in silver thread that glimmered in the light. The robe beneath was of silver silk, designed to be cool in the warm sun but warm in the chill breeze that still swept through the valley. The belt he wore was also of silver, the clasp wrought in the shape of star. The loose robes hid the weight loss from his injuries and continuing convalescence, and he looked the same Elf warrior who left the valley those many months ago.  
  
Legolas also looked splendid in his green leggings and silver tunic, though he did not spend as much time on his appearance as he had on Elladan's. His reasoning was that he would not be in the same spot for long enough for others to study him intently, while Elladan would most likely have to submit to drawn out conversations with undeniably boring dignitaries. Elladan laughed at his friend's opinion of court life, but agreed in the end.  
  
"Are you ready to greet the day and the New Year?" Elrond asked his son.  
  
Elladan smiled brightly and stepped into the hallway. "Yes," he said. "I am more than ready to start something new." 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

A/N: Wow, this took a long time to update, huh? Yeah, real life is getting in the way, as I had to take a second job. 2 jobs + school full time = not much time for fanfic. ( But don't worry, I'm NOT going to give up on this fic. It will just take me a little more time to update than usual! Thank you to everyone for the encouraging reviews and keep it up!  
  
Chapter 17  
  
Elladan was swept away in a sea of color and smiling faces as soon as he descended the stairs to the lawns of the Great House. The sheer amount of people was overwhelming, and he was grateful for his father's hand on his arm and Legolas's hand planted firmly on his back. Elrond led them over to a low couch set next to his own high-backed chair, making sure Elladan was comfortable before he allowed Erestor to steal him away to greet the guests.  
  
Elrohir came running through the crowd, sliding to a nimble stop in front of Elladan and Legolas. He was grinning and there was a wisp of straw sticking out from behind one pointed ear.  
  
"Good, you are awake!" Elrohir said. "I came to see you before my race."  
  
"I see you have brought the stable with you," Elladan said, plucking the straw out of his brother's hair.  
  
"A gift from Mornel," Elrohir laughed, running his fingers through his loose hair. "Wish me luck?"  
  
"You don't need it," Elladan said with an easy smile. "But try not to overly embarrass the guests."  
  
Elrohir laughed again, but it was drowned out by the sound of trumpets in the background. "That is the call for the race. I will return!" Elrohir called as he sped off again.  
  
Elladan leaned back to enjoy the sun shining down on his soft robes and the music of Elven voices surrounding him. There were others than elves present, though, and at times he could hear the gruff voices of Men as they passed by. He watched Glorfindel inspect the targets for the archery contest, assuring himself that they were fairly placed. He noticed Legolas watching with a keen interest, the sky-colored eyes as sharp as a knife blade.  
  
"Glorfindel!" Elladan called across the grass.  
  
The blonde turned and his face lit up to see Elladan and Legolas. He abandoned the targets, catching a young dark haired elf to give him quick instructions. The youth nodded and turned his attention to the task, leaving Glorfindel free.  
  
"You look splendid," Glorfindel said, bowing formally to the young Elf Lord and his companion the Prince.  
  
"As does everyone here," Elladan said brightly. Glorfindel collapsed on the grass at his feet.  
  
"This will be a fine contest," Glorfindel said proudly. "Some of the finest archers in Middle Earth are in attendance today, though the competition would be stiffer if you were competing, Elladan."  
  
"Next year," Elladan said. "Though I would suggest that Legolas take my place."  
  
"Oh no!" Legolas said, waving off the suggestion. "I am but a mere archer of Mirkwood. I am not used to shooting against such fine lords. I would snap my bow in my nervousness!"  
  
Glorfindel and Elladan laughed. "You are more than welcome to compete, if you change your mind young Prince," Glorfindel said. He looked at the sun and stood up. "I must be off for now, but I daresay you will see me again today."  
  
Legolas looked around and saw a tent with long tables adorned with food and drink. He bounded off the couch, earning no more than a curious glance from Elladan. The grey eyed Elf smiled though when Legolas returned balancing a tray of food and a pitcher of ale. They ate in silence for a while, listening to the conversations around them. They saw Elrond pass by several times, led this way and that by different dignitaries and emissaries from distant lands. They heard the trumpets sound again, signaling the end of the races taking place past the river.  
  
"I wonder if Elrohir won," Elladan mused.  
  
"I am sure he did. Your brother rides like the winds of a storm!" Legolas said, shaking his head.  
  
People were milling about, waiting for those from the races to return before the start of the archery competition. Legolas amused himself by feeding Elladan bits of sticky fruit, ignoring the glances they received when Elladan licked the sweet juice from his hand.  
  
"Elladan, will you not share with your twin?" a familiar voice brought them out of their nectar-induced haze.  
  
Legolas threw a grape at Elrohir, who neatly dodged the fruit. Elrohir was even more disheveled, though he now wore a crown of white flowers in his loosely flowing hair.  
  
"Did you win?"  
  
"Yes!" Elrohir beamed. "Though a rider from Rohan nearly bested me. It was a good race; I did not overtake him until the end."  
  
Elrohir sprawled on the grass in front of the couch, leaning against his brother's knees. Glorfindel also returned and joined Elrohir, plucking playfully at the floral coronet. Elrohir waved his hands away, guarding his prize with a mocking glare at the Eldar. Elrond appeared from the middle of a small crowd, ushered by Erestor to his seat. He collapsed into his chair with a slight huff as Erestor flew away again. He smiled at the four pairs of eyes staring at him, lingering the most on Elladan. His son was leaning against the arm of the couch, smiling softly as he watched the archers. They were assembling at the line drawn on the ground that indicated the starting position as Erestor scrambled to take note of all the participants.  
  
The gathered crowd hushed as a string of beautifully dressed ladies entered the courtyard. They were headed by Lady Arwen, who took her seat in the high backed carved chair set under a canopy on the opposite side of the lawn. The other ladies and their escorts arranged themselves accordingly around the lady of the house on the couches and seats provided for them. At Arwen's feet lay the crown of golden flowers that was the prize for the archery contest. She nodded to her father and brothers, receiving a wave from Elrohir and bowed heads from the others in return.  
  
The flourish of trumpets sounded as the preparations were finished. Erestor stood in the middle of the field and announced the participants and the realms they hailed from. It was an odd assortment: Men from Dale and Rohan, Rangers who roamed the wilds around Imladris and the Misty Mountains, and Elves from all corners of Arda sought to prove their worth in archery. Silver-haired Aerandir from Mithlond, sharp-eyed Rumil from Lothlorien who had accompanied Arwen to Imladris, and Silpion, also from Lothlorien, were considered the top competitors.  
  
"Hark!" cried one man from the crowd when Erestor was finished with the introductions. "Is there no one to shoot from Imladris or Mirkwood?"  
  
Erestor saw the man. He was a young man, hardly more than a boy, from Dale. He had been entranced with the Elves all during his stay in Imladris, and had commented several times on how he anticipated the archery contest to see Elves from all the kingdoms of Middle Earth compete.  
  
"What say you, brother?" Elrohir whispered to Elladan. "Should I bind back my hair and say that I am you?"  
  
Elladan shoved him from behind. "Nay! Every being here would know you were an imposter, and you would shame my name with your archery skills, had you any at all!"  
  
Elrond smirked at the twins' conspiracy, though his smile widened when Elrohir cast his circlet of flowers into Glorfindel's lap and stood.  
  
"I, Elrohir, son of Lord Elrond, will shoot for Imladris," he announced. A cheer of encouragement went up in the crowd.  
  
"And for Mirkwood?" Elrond asked, looking to Legolas.  
  
Legolas stood, though the tips of his ears were flushed. "I will shoot for Mirkwood, to defend the honor of my father's realm."  
  
"Legolas Thranduilion for Mirkwood," Erestor repeated.  
  
Pages were sent to fetch the weapons of Elrohir and Legolas, who had not thought they would need them. Soon they, too, had bows in hand. Legolas had his dark-wooded hunting bow of Mirkwood, which was shorter than Elrohir's grey longbow of the Galadhrim. They each drew three arrows from their quivers, as they would all have three shots at the targets set. The targets were simple reeds, no wider than the width of a finger. Each reed had a red mark on it, and the competitor was meant to sever the reed on the mark.  
  
One by one, bow strings sang as the competitors took their shots. Elrohir was soon left behind in the field, though the crowd still cheered their encouragement when he bowed out after his final shot. Legolas held his own, and was tied for the lead with Rumil and Aerandir by the end of the second round. Rumil took his final shot, hitting the farthest target squarely, though slightly above the mark. Aerandir also took his shot, severing he reed considerably below the mark. All eyes fell on Legolas, who was the youngest of the Elves in the competition, and last to shoot.  
  
Legolas stood at the line for his shot, setting his eyes on the farthest target. The crowd hushed as was the custom, lending an odd quiet to the normally noisy courtyard. Legolas loosed his arrow, sending it speeding to the target. He held his breath as the green-fletched arrow whistled through the air. It split the reed so neatly that half of the red mark could be seen on either half of the reed. Erestor brought the broken target to Lord Elrond for his inspection. He raised his eyebrows and looked at Legolas, who was leaning on his bow awaiting the verdict.  
  
"I declare Legolas of Mirkwood the winner of this year's archery contest!" he said.  
  
The crowd cheered as Legolas stepped over to Lady Arwen. He knelt at her feet, allowing her to place the golden flowers in his hair. She bent and kissed his cheek, making him flush a bright pink as he considered how similar her kiss was to her brother's, no matter how chaste either was meant to be.  
  
Legolas turned and looked at Elladan. He was beaming from his place on the couch, pride and love evident on his face. Legolas's smile faltered for a second as he felt his emotions warring inside of him. 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

A/N: Here's the next part, and I'm going to try to get another part out tomorrow, but don't flame me if I don't make it!! Aww heck, flame it all you want. They're funny anyway. But, seriously, if you read this, please review it for me! Especially if you have been following it from the beginning! I need a little confidence boost to get me past finals!  
  
Part 18:  
  
Elladan lay on the couch, absently twirling a blade of grass between his fingers. He was feeling tired, but he didn't want to interrupt the festivities. The day was winding down, and soon the celebration would be brought inside the dining hall for feasting, and then to the Hall of Fire for song. He could excuse himself shortly after eating, or perhaps beg out of the feast completely and have a quiet dinner in his room.  
  
At the moment, he relented to watch Legolas and Elrohir as they spun with the dancers on the grass. The matching floral wreaths glinted white and gold in the sunlight, drawing much attention to the pair. Suddenly the other end of the couch dipped with the weight of another. Elladan looked up to see an Elf he did not recognize sitting at his feet, smiling at him. The stranger had chestnut hair and blue eyes similar to Legolas's, though his features were far less fair than the Prince of Mirkwood.  
  
"You are the son of Elrond?" the stranger asked.  
  
"Yes," Elladan answered cautiously. "I am Elladan. Does my father seek me?"  
  
"No," the other said. "I do. My name is Thalion, and I was told that you are the best guide in the household for those who are from strange lands and wish to see the full glory of Imladris."  
  
Elladan's lips pressed into a thin line, though Thalion did not seem to notice the gesture of distress. "Forgive me, Thalion, but I am not in the position to give anyone a tour today. If you like I shall find Erestor, the seneschal of the house, and he can give you what you wish."  
  
Thalion's eyes turned strangely dark, but the smile did not leave his face. "What I wish, I can find only in you," he nearly purred.  
  
Elladan sat up quickly with a wince, but not before Thalion's hand slid up nearly the length of his leg. He pushed himself off the couch, one hand on the arm as his vision swam. "Do not presume that your advances are welcome, Thalion, for they are not!" he hissed loudly.  
  
"I take no liberties that others have not taken before me," Thalion countered. "Perhaps you should not be so open with your dalliances if you wish to be left alone."  
  
Elladan noticed the eerie quiet. He saw that the surrounding Elves and Men had seen the exchange clearly and were still watching them. His breath came in short gasps and he felt darkness crowding his vision. He was sure he was going to faint, but a strong hand closed around his arm, followed by another around his waist. He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, leaning into the other's strength.  
  
"You forget your place while you are a guest in my father's house," a voice said, so similar to his own but with a deadly quiet. "I suggest you take your leave now, as you have already clearly noted that my brother is bound to another."  
  
There was no answer from the stranger, and Elladan did not open his eyes to see him leave. He felt himself being helped back to the couch, and he sat gratefully.  
  
"Elrohir," he whispered, tears leaking from his eyes. He shut them tight to prevent any further tears as Elrohir guided him to lay down, his head pillowed on his brother's lap.  
  
"Hush," Elrohir soothed, resting his arm on Elladan's waist. "He's gone now. Are you hurt?"  
  
"No," Elladan answered quietly. He opened his eyes again, as the tears stopped threatening to escape. No one was staring any longer, though he thought that he and his twin must have made a pretty sight.  
  
Legolas came towards the couch balancing three glasses of wine. He should have just brought a bottle, he thought, trying to keep the ruby liquid off of his tunic. His face fell as he noticed that Elladan had fresh tear tracks on his cheeks.  
  
"What happened?" Legolas asked.  
  
"Nothing," Elrohir said. "Just too many of our guests imbibing without thinking on their actions."  
  
Elladan sat up and took a glass from Legolas. He drained it quickly, though Elrohir tried to slow him. Legolas's eyes narrowed; Elladan was acting strangely again, and the evening was still long.  
  
The dinner bells rang out, calling all to the feast in the dining hall. Glorfindel came springing up to them, but slowed as he saw the dark expressions on the young Elves' faces.  
  
"Will you three be attending the feast?" he asked, glancing pointedly to Elladan who still clasped the empty wine glass.  
  
"No," Elrohir answered. "I think we shall have dinner in our rooms tonight. But please, tell our father that we are sorry we are not attending."  
  
Glorfindel nodded. "He will fully understand, but do not be surprised if he checks in on you this evening. I will have dinner sent up for you." He rubbed Elladan's shoulder in comfort and joined the crowds leaving for the Great House.  
  
Elladan rose as the last of the guest filed through the archways. Elrohir reached to catch his arm, but Elladan shrugged him off.  
  
"I am fine," he said. "It was but a moment of weakness, and it has passed."  
  
Elrohir nodded and allowed his brother to make his own way to their rooms. Once they entered the stone and wooden chamber Elladan nearly collapsed on the bed. Legolas took it upon himself to help Elladan undress and Elladan did not fight him as he undid the clasp on the robe. By the time the food arrived, he was comfortably dressed in a worn, loose robe instead of the heavy and stiff formal ones.  
  
The companions ate in silence. Elrohir kept pushing food at his brother, who merely picked at his meal. The sun sank below the mountains and Legolas rose to light the candles in the ornate stands around the room. The glow of candlelight was kinder to Elladan's tired eyes than the harsh sun of the day, and he felt himself relax. He stretched out in the bed, allowing the musical voices of the other two to soothe him to sleep.  
  
Legolas turned to see Elladan's closed eyes and even breathing. He sighed in relief that Elladan could sleep easily; he feared that fell dreams would haunt him still. He gestured to Elrohir and they retired to the younger twin's room, though they left the door open in case Elladan awoke or fell into nightmares.  
  
"I know not what to do," Legolas admitted to Elrohir. "I am afraid to touch him. He reacted badly at first, and I dared not try again. Now, I am not sure how he would react. Earlier today, I thought that he may be more comfortable with contact, but I suppose not after what you told me about the encounter with Thalion."  
  
"Elladan did not know Thalion. You are no stranger to him. It is not a fair comparison," Elrohir reasoned.  
  
"I would not forgive myself if I caused Elladan more pain," Legolas said, burying his face in his hands. "But I cannot stand being so close to him without knowing if my touch is welcome or not!"  
  
Elrohir considered Legolas's words. "Your touch cannot erase the memories of the orcs, but I daresay that he needs to be reminded that there can still be joy found with another."  
  
"I will think on the matter further before I decide how to proceed," Legolas said. Elrohir nodded. "I will not do anything to harm your brother, Elrohir," he reassured. "I would die of grief if that ever happened." 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

A/N: Another part! I know that the chapters have been short lately, but I figured that it's better to make them short and keep them coming than trying to write longer parts and not getting them finished. So, here's the next one, and hopefully there will be another tomorrow! And I'm so grateful to everyone who's been reviewing this story for me! It helps so much to know what people think while I'm writing this.  
  
Part 19:  
  
Legolas strode through the halls of the Great House, his sapphire eyes intent on a single purpose. No one was in the halls, as it was still early and all were convened in the Hall of Fire. The great carved doors were thrown open in welcome, and the massive hall echoed with song and laughter. It was warm in the hall in comparison to the cold early spring air that circulated in the corridor.  
  
Legolas blended into the shadow, only half-listening to those around him. He saw Glorfindel, singing along with some lay he did not recognize. Elrond was smiling, his head resting on a hand. He caught Legolas's eye and beckoned him over. Legolas took a seat next to the lord.  
  
"How goes it with Elladan?" Elrond asked worriedly.  
  
"He is sleeping. The day's events were too much for him," Legolas said.  
  
Elrond nodded. "I will look in on him before I retire, to see for myself that he is not hiding some ailment from you."  
  
Legolas smiled genuinely at the fatherly concern. "I came here seeking someone, my lord," he said. "Do you know an Elf who goes by the name of Thalion?"  
  
Elrond's brow knitted as he thought over the question. "Perhaps. I recall a young elf, of blue eyes and brown hair. Is that whom you seek?"  
  
"I know not his description. I was only told his name, and that he was a stranger to this household."  
  
Elrond nodded. "There is only one Thalion I can think of who is among us tonight. He is over there," he said, indicating a far corner of the room where the younger, noisier Elves has convened. "He is part of an envoy from the east; a wandering company if I remember correctly."  
  
Legolas stood. "Thank you, Lord Elrond. I will see for myself if he is the Elf I am looking for."  
  
He rose and made his way through the crowds to the small group in the corner. The one called Thalion was there, along with two other young male Elves and a few maidens as well. They quieted as they saw the Prince approach, for they knew full well who he was, and had seen him in the archery contest earlier.  
  
"Prince Legolas, you honor us with your presence," Thalion spoke, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.  
  
Legolas turned on him. "You are Thalion?" he asked with his best court manners.  
  
"Yes…yes I am," the brunet Elf answered, taken aback by the politeness in the Prince's tone.  
  
Legolas smiled. "I would like to have words with you…in private as the words I wish to choose should not be spoken in polite company."  
  
Thalion paled. "If this is about the conversation I had with Lord Elladan, I can explain!"  
  
He was cut off as Legolas grasped his arm and hauled him out of the nearest door. He slammed Thalion against the stone of the hallway. The corridor was drafty, though Thalion was the only one who shivered.  
  
"You know not what you did this afternoon," Legolas said in a low and dangerous voice. "If we were in my father's court I would have your honor. However, as I am a guest here as much as you are, I will not take that right. I deliver a warning instead: Elladan is tied to me and I to him; to affront one of us is to affront the other. I would tread lightly in Imladris if I were you, and be glad that I have not told Lord Elrond about your little 'encounter' with his son!"  
  
Legolas spun on his heel and disappeared down the hall. Thalion leaned against the stone wall for a long time before he could gather himself enough to join the others back in the hall.  
  
  
  
Elladan felt sick. He was hot and cold at the same time, as though someone had carved him in ice and then threw him into a furnace. Strange, he thought, I feel sick though I have never been sick before. He wondered if that was true, or if it was some falsehood his mind made up to trick him with. Perhaps he wasn't an Elf at all. Perhaps he was a young Man in a dream, or a Dwarf hallucinating in the dark under a mountain. Then he would wake up and everything would be different.  
  
There was a hand on his brow—it was hot and cold at the same time, too, but it felt good there. He wanted to open his eyes and see what it was, but he was too tired and thought that if he moved the hand might go away.  
  
"He still sleeps with his eyes closed," a voice said. Legolas. The voice had a name.  
  
"He always has," another voice replied. That was his father. "Elladan, do you want to wake up?"  
  
"No," he found his own voice saying. He was surprised that it worked at all, much less normally.  
  
Elrond chuckled. "That is fine, but you will feel better if you drink what I have brought you."  
  
Feeling better sounded good to Elladan. He forced his eyes open and blinked blearily in the candle light. "It is still night?"  
  
"Yes. You have only slept for two hours. How do you feel?"  
  
Elladan frowned. "I don't know. Strange."  
  
Elrond smiled. "You have a bit of a fever, though you are much inexperienced in those types of things." He handed his son a cup. "Drink this and the fever will break before morning."  
  
Elladan obediently drank down the contents of the glass, grimacing at the bitter taste. He allowed his father to guide him back down, but he tried to push the covers away when they were drawn up to his chin. It was Legolas who quieted him enough to let the heavy blanket finally be settled over him. He seemed to drift off again into an uneasy sleep.  
  
"Keep him warm tonight. The fever is not dangerous—merely the effects of too much sun and his tiredness—but do not allow him to become chilled from pushing off the blankets at night," Elrond instructed Legolas.  
  
"I will do as you say," Legolas assured him.  
  
"I shall retire for the evening, but do not hesitate to send for me for anything," he said.  
  
Elrond bent and kissed his son on the temple, murmuring some words that Legolas could not hear. Elladan sighed in his sleep in response, but seemed to rest easier. Legolas was then left alone with Elladan. He snuffed out the candles that still glittered around the room and crept into the bed beside his love. He snaked one long arm around Elladan's waist, molding his body against him. Elladan did not stir and Legolas relaxed as his contact was not outright refused, even if Elladan was asleep.  
  
It felt right, Legolas mused, to be sleeping so closely to Elladan again. He remembered the first night they had sought comfort in each other's arms. Elladan had accompanied him on a trip to Dale, to deliver some correspondence for his father. They had tarried along the way back to King Thranduil's fortress, and spent the night sleeping under the stars. It had been so beautiful, the starlight mirrored in Elladan's grey eyes. It had been a simple thing, really, that Elladan had moved his bedroll so close to his own. Nothing more than a few stolen kisses and then they had slept, much as they did so now. Except then it had been Elladan curled around Legolas, the warmth of his breath tickling his ear as they watched their fire slowly die. They had returned to Mirkwood the next day, to Elrohir who was waiting for them. Elrohir knew, as sure as he knew that the sky was blue, that there was love between them. It had taken the lovers far longer to realize that for themselves. Almost too long…  
  
Legolas was surprised at the tears that escaped his eyes and the dry sobs that stuck in his throat. He hadn't truly cried since he arrived at Imladris; the thought that maybe he should have never occurred to him. Elladan shifted in his arms to face him, awakened by the soft noise of hitching breath. His eyes blinked open.  
  
"Don't cry," Elladan soothed. "I'm still here."  
  
"I don't want to hurt you," Legolas whispered.  
  
Elladan moved closer to Legolas, wrapping his own arms around the slender frame so they were cocooned together under the blankets. He laid his head on Legolas's chest, above his heart.  
  
"You couldn't hurt me," Elladan said before drifting off to sleep again.  
  
Legolas stayed awake for a long time, letting his tears subside and thanking every star he knew for the gift he held in his arms. 


	20. Chapter Twenty

A/N: Here's another part. Am I doing well? Oh, and for anyone who's been waiting or wanting a Glorfindel/Elrohir fic, check out the changes I made to Cry of the Eagle, and let me know what you think. By the way, this part comes with some warnings so….  
  
WARNINGS: This chapter contains some definite slash, even though it is definitely not NC-17. No, it is not gratuitous, and yes, it is necessary for the story. Now, on to…..  
  
Part 20:  
  
Days were the easiest, Elladan thought. It was easy to pretend when Anor was shining down, warming his blood. It was easy to pretend that the soft kisses and gentle touches were welcome. It was so easy.  
  
At night, when Ithil's cold light highlighted the valley, it was harder. Legolas would curl up next to him in bed, so careful not to frighten him with sudden contact. The tenderness was touching, almost to the point of annoyance. He was not made of starlight that would dissolve at the merest contact, after all. Still, it was hard to quiet his raging heart when he felt those strong arms wind around him. Every instinct he had told him to fight, to run, to do anything but lay there and pretend. But his heart told him that it was only Legolas, and Legolas would never hurt him.  
  
But Elladan found that an Elf's heart was only so strong.  
  
  
  
  
  
It was a good day. The last of the guest who had arrived for the New Year finally departed that morn, though Legolas and Elrohir noted that Thalion was one of the first to leave the fair valley of Imaldris directly after the festivities. The house was quieter now, as the remaining residents settled into the routine of spring and the warmer months of summer that the Elves so loved. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and the crisp Bruinen ran swift and full with the melting snows of the mountains.  
  
The day was spent laughing and grooming horses in the stables. Elrohir and Legolas took their horses out to exercise, leaving Elladan alone to care for Mornel—a task he was enjoying more and more as the friendship between them grew. He still did not try to ride Mornel since that first day, but he knew the time would come soon. By the time Legolas and Elrohir returned, it was almost dark and they had to hurry to wash for dinner. Still, they arrived to the table slightly damp, earning a few quick glances from the others present.  
  
After dinner, Legolas took Elladan's hand and led him upstairs. He noticed Legolas's quick smile and the darkness of his eyes. His own smile faded as he recognized what mood Legolas was in, but he did not fight the grip Legolas had on his hand. They arrived at Elladan's room quickly, and Legolas pushed the door open silently. Elladan's smile returned as he noticed the candles burning low, set on every available surface in the room. The bed was adorned with soft white flower petals, lending a sweet aroma to the air. Legolas still had his hand, and drew him slowly to the bed.  
  
"I thought that tonight we could…" his voice faded off shyly.  
  
Elladan responded by kissing Legolas soundly, receiving a soft squeak of surprise from him.  
  
"No," Legolas said, pushing Elladan away from him. "Slowly. We go slowly, and you have to promise me that you'll say something if you become uncomfortable or if I hurt you."  
  
"You do not have to—"  
  
"PROMISE me," Legolas said firmly. "Or we go no further."  
  
Elladan stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed. "I promise you that I will tell you if I become uncomfortable or you hurt me," he said clearly, though his eyes were fixed on the floor.  
  
Legolas sat beside him. "We don't have to do this," he said quietly. "We don't ever have to do this. I will not love you less. There are many ways to make love."  
  
Elladan nodded. "I want to you to be able to take me again, as you used to," he said. "I don't want that to be stolen from us."  
  
"I will not be stolen from you, even if what we once shared so easily is now lost to us. That is not what matters. You are here, safe, and I am here also. That is the important part. We can still share our hearts, even if we cannot share our bodies."  
  
Elladan licked his lips and considered his words before he spoke. "I would still like to try," he said softly, glancing sideways at Legolas. He moved to speak again, but Legolas silenced him.  
  
"Do not make promises," he said. "We can try anything you wish, and if it fails, we will find another way."  
  
Elladan nodded. Yes, he could do this, he promised himself. He would not run away from Legolas.  
  
Legolas was there, then, kissing him carefully. Elladan leaned into him, deepening the kiss beyond any they had shared since his capture. He could taste the wine on Legolas's tongue, but he knew that he had not drunk much, and it would not affect his actions. He felt Legolas's smile against his mouth and his hands skimming under his tunic to reach the skin beneath. Elladan's breath hitched as Legolas traced the scars that ran across his back, but Legolas did not stop or show any signs of revulsion as Elladan expected. The strong archer's hands pulled the tunic over his head and it landed in a puddle on the floor. Legolas pulled out of the kiss, gasping for air, but smiling.  
  
"If your sister is the Evenstar, you must be the moonrise," Legolas breathed close to his shoulder before pressing a kiss on his sensitive throat.  
  
Elladan gasped, his world tilting in a dangerous way as he was guided to lie on the bed. Legolas sat above him, divesting himself of his own tunic before moving to lie beside the raven-haired Elf.  
  
"Wait," Elladan said.  
  
"What is it?" Legolas asked, slightly alarmed.  
  
"What if Elrohir walks in on us?"  
  
Legolas chuckled. "Does your brother not know the ways between two Elves?" he asked. "Do not worry—I have tied him to a tree where no one will find him. Besides, I locked the door."  
  
Elladan laughed, which immediately lightened Legolas's heart. He rolled over and resumed kissing Legolas, though he noted that the prince's hands stayed discretely above his waist. Still, his hand accidentally pressed on the scar that traced Elladan's ribs and his breath hitched.  
  
"I am sorry. Does it still pain you?" Legolas asked.  
  
"No, just the memory of the pain. It is nothing."  
  
The blue eyes narrowed, but Legolas let the comment pass. He continued kissing lightly along Elladan's collarbone until he felt some of the tension drain out of the Elladan. His own need was mounting quickly, but it was easy to ignore for now. Elladan reached to reciprocate, but Legolas held the hand that reached to stroke his hair.  
  
"No, just relax," he whispered. "You'll have your turn."  
  
Elladan's protest faded into a moan as Legolas began sucking gently on his sensitive ear tip while his hands glided smoothly across his chest. He was quickly reduced to a quivering mass of Elf sprawled bonelessly on the bed. Legolas's breathing quickened as his desire became unbearable.  
  
"Elladan, I want you to take me tonight," Legolas said in a voice gone husky.  
  
Elladan was taken aback. "But I thought…wouldn't you rather take me?" he asked hesitantly.  
  
Legolas shook his head. "No. I will not do that tonight."  
  
Elladan looked away, blushing. "I…I do not know if I can," he admitted.  
  
Legolas had noticed the lack of heat that usually matched his own, but he shrugged and grinned wickedly. "Let me see if I can help you with that," he said, moving to undo the laces on Elladan's leggings.  
  
Elladan allowed it, though every muscle in his body tensed in the need to get away. He almost spoke up, but chastised himself for being nothing but a coward. He gripped the sheets as Legolas took him into his mouth, suckling hard but not hard enough to elicit pain. Elladan shut his eyes and tried to still his racing pulse. It seemed as though his heart felt the need to escape his body, if his body would not escape for itself.  
  
Legolas felt the tension in his body and the lack of reaction to his ministrations. He laid one hand against Elladan's smooth hip while the other traced soft circles on his abdomen, trying to get him to relax enough for his body to feel the pleasure instead of the fear and pain. He did not stop, as Elladan had promised to speak out when it became too much to bear, and he trusted Elladan to keep his word.  
  
"No!" Elladan cried suddenly, almost against his will. Legolas's hands were too much. It was too close to how the orcs had pinned him down with their claws when the chains became tangled and in the way. He tried to shut his eyes to block out the memories, but all he saw was darkness of the caves. "No, no, stop! You can't!" he cried, even when Legolas moved away. He was clearly caught in a nightmarish memory, but Legolas did not know whether he should touch him to wake him or not.  
  
Elladan's eyes snapped open and he was silent as he stared at Legolas without really seeing him. His eyes widened and he bolted out of the bed, barely pulling up his leggings before he tripped over them.  
  
"Elladan, stop! Just wait for a moment," Legolas said as Elladan fumbled with the lock.  
  
Elladan was scared and his instincts to run were too strong to ignore, even for Legolas. He raced out of the door without dressing. Legolas grabbed his tunic from the bed and pulled it on as he tried to follow Elladan out of the door, but he was gone from sight.  
  
  
  
  
  
Elrohir followed his father to his chambers after dinner, giving Legolas and Elladan some privacy. He did not want to be forced to listen to their "reacquaintance" through the door anyway, he mused. The father and son opened a book of lore between them, determined to find a certain lay that Erestor had mentioned the day before, but neither of them remembered. They were torn from their perusal by furious knocking on the study door.  
  
Elrond went to answer it and he was met with a sobbing Legolas on the other side. He caught the young Prince as he nearly collapsed in his arms.  
  
"I'm sorry!" Legolas cried. "I did not know what I was doing…"  
  
"What is wrong?" Elrond asked.  
  
"Elladan is gone!" 


	21. Chapter TwentyOne

A/N: Okay, I wasn't going to post another chapter yet, but I couldn't just leave them like that, so here you go. Thanks for the absolutely wonderful reviews!! Now, the bad news. This story is drawing to a close, and there will probably only be two or three more parts after this one. So, the question begs to be asked: Does anyone want an NC-17 part? Maybe as an Epilogue or something not necessary to the story? Let me know!  
  
Part 21:  
  
"Mornel is not in the stables," Elrohir said as he stormed into the library.  
  
Elrond looked up from where he stood next to Legolas's chair. Legolas had his head buried in his hands as tears still streamed down his face. Elrohir gathered up an extra cloak from where it was casually hung over a chair. He bundled it up and threw it into the satchel he carried.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?" Elrond asked his younger son.  
  
"I'm going after him," Elrohir said firmly. "The ford is flooding, and he will be in danger if he tries to cross it."  
  
"I will come also," Legolas said, standing.  
  
Elrond pushed him back down. "No, you will not. You are not in the state of mind to be going after Elladan, and I will not have two distraught Elves chasing each other across the valley!"  
  
Elrohir paused. His father was as close to anger as he had ever seen him, though he held his emotions in check with the practice of a warrior of the battlefield. "Glorfindel will go with me," he said, hoping to allay at least some of their fears along with his own. "There are only two roads out of Imladris, and I believe Glorfindel and I have the best chances of bringing Elladan back without using force."  
  
"So be it," Elrond said. He grasped his son's shoulder, forcing him to look him in the eyes. "I shall wait here, in case he returns before you do. Be careful."  
  
"I will, Father," Elrohir promised before he raced back to the stables.  
  
Glorfindel was waiting for Elrohir at the stables, holding his grey mare. She pranced at the end of her lead, knowing that speed would be of the essence and more than up to the challenge. Elrohir mounted her and he and Glorfindel headed towards the stone bridge.  
  
"If he was truly trying to leave the valley, he would either go west to the Ford or east to the High Pass," Glorfindel reasoned.  
  
Elrohir considered the options. He did not believe that Elladan would venture east, towards Mirkwood. "I will take the Ford," he said, wheeling his mare away before Glorfindel could protest.  
  
He turned to see Asfaloth disappear across the bridge in the opposite direction and he spurred his mare on. It was a difficult ride, for though the night was clear the passes of the mountains were treacherous. Elrohir and his mare had both been born and raised in the valley and they knew every stone of the path by heart. He only hoped that Mornel would be slower on the paths and spare him the precious time he needed to close the distance.  
  
  
  
Elladan allowed Mornel to choose their path as they followed the winding river. He admitted that he did not know where he thought he would ride to, but just being out under the stars had already cleared his head. They had crossed the river at a shallow point, but it was flooded with the ice-cold runoff from the mountains, and he was searching for a place to cross back. He mused that it would not be so bad if he was forced to wait until morning to cross again.  
  
He shifted on Mornel's back, trying to relieve the stiffness he felt. It had been far too long since he was on the back of a horse, and the slight fall in his chambers left him bruised. The chill air eased the burning in his shoulders as the breeze caressed his bare skin—he had forgotten a cloak or even a tunic in his haste, but he did not feel the cold as keenly as a Man would.  
  
Mornel stopped and whinnied sharply. "What is it, boy? Have you found a place to cross?" Elladan asked.  
  
He peered into the dark water, but he could tell that it ran swift and deep at this part. The opposite bank was too sheer for a horse to climb, anyway. He was about to urge Mornel on when he heard the sound of hoof beats above the roar of the river. He stayed still and quiet, trusting Mornel who had his ears pricked forward in attention to warn him of enemies.  
  
"Elladan!" a voice cried out in the darkness.  
  
"Elrohir?" Elladan called back. Elrohir became visible on the edge of the bank, his grey mare pale in the moonlight. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Looking for you, brother," Elrohir said. "The Ford is not safe to cross."  
  
"I know that, you fool! I am looking for a way back across the river. I crossed it some distance south of here, but it has flooded even more since," Elladan said in annoyance.  
  
"I thought you had run away…" Elladan could barely hear his brother's voice across the water.  
  
"No. I needed to be alone," Elladan said. "Now, go home and I will be there when I find my way back across, though it may be morn before then."  
  
"I will follow you down the river until you find a place to cross," his brother responded. He turned his mare in the direction that Mornel was headed, but he did not see the end of the embankment in his haste.  
  
"Elrohir, CAREFUL!" Elladan called out the warning, but it was too late. The mare slipped on the smooth rock and horse and rider tumbled into the raging water below.  
  
"Elrohir!" Elladan exclaimed as he watched the river pull his brother down.  
  
Elladan spurred Mornel on, riding beside the swiftly moving waters until he saw the grey horse appear again above the surface. The opposite bank evened out and she was able to pull herself from the water. Elrohir was not on her back. Elladan pulled Mornel up and cast his eyes above the water. Elrohir was a strong swimmer, but no Elf could fight the mighty Bruinen at full flow, and the water was as cold as ice.  
  
His eyes caught Elrohir fighting for the surface, unable to call out before being dragged down again. Without thinking, Elladan urged Mornel into the water. The black horse plunged in and the icy water hit Elladan with a shock, ripping the breath from his lungs. He felt paralyzed as the water tore him from Mornel's back, but the thought that he had to find his brother was above all concerns for his own safety. He pulled himself through the water with sure strokes, though his arms burned from the effort of fighting the current. Suddenly, his hand closed around an arm and he held on for dear life. Elrohir bobbed to the surface and the brothers clung to each other as the river swept them away.  
  
Elladan tried to swim to the shore, but he was not strong enough to pull both his and his brother's weight. He heard the shrill whinny of a horse and saw Elrohir's mare prancing on the other side of the river in distress. She was too small to help, her limbs built for speed rather than power. It was all Elladan could do to gulp in air when he could and try to hold his brother's head above the water.  
  
Elladan felt himself tiring and he knew that he could not fight for much longer. Elrohir was nearly unconscious in his arms, dead weight dragging them down. It would be easy to let go and let himself drown, he thought. It would solve so many problems, and he and Elrohir would still be together, even if it was in the Halls of Mandos.  
  
A great splash brought him out of his daze and his view was suddenly blocked by a giant dark shape. Mornel! It was Mornel! With a final effort, Elladan wrapped one arm firmly around Elrohir's waist and cast out with his other toward the dark shape. His hand found the thick, flowing mane and he held on tight. He felt as the stallion's might alone towed them to the shore. With a strong plunge forward, Mornel broke the water and dragged the two Elves onto the bank. Elladan's grasp broke and he fell hard to the ground, spluttering and gulping air. Immediately he turned to his brother. Elrohir was unconscious and Elladan could not detect his breathing. Quickly, he rolled Elrohir onto his back and leaned his weight against him, forcing the water out of his lungs.  
  
"Elrohir?! Elrohir, wake up!" he growled. "You mad little Elf, wake up or else I'm going to tell Glorfindel how you really feel about him!"  
  
Elladan was rewarded by Elrohir's body convulsing as he coughed and vomited up the water. He lay gasping and shivering on the ground as Elladan collapsed beside him, exhausted.  
  
"Elladan?" Elrohir wheezed painfully.  
  
"I'm here," Elladan said, his brother's voice bringing him back to the present. He levered himself to his feet. He knew that he had to get Elrohir out of his soaked clothes before he froze to death. "Lay still," he told his brother, shifting him into a more comfortable position on the ground.  
  
Elladan whistled and Elrohir's mare trotted up to him nervously. She calmed as soon as she saw that Elrohir was apparently unharmed. Elladan untied the waterproof saddlebags she carried and rummaged through them. He came up with a soft woolen blanket and an extra cloak that were mostly dry. He efficiently stripped Elrohir of his cloak and tunic and bundled him in the cloak and blanket.  
  
"Aren't you cold?" Elrohir asked through chattering teeth.  
  
"I was not in the water for as long, and I was not wearing heavy garments as you were," Elladan reasoned.  
  
"You are hardly wearing garments at all!" Elrohir quipped before another coughing fit took him.  
  
Elladan rubbed his brother's back. "I left in a bit of a rush," he admitted. "Though I do not regret it now, as I am already dry! Now, are you ready to go home?"  
  
"More than ready," Elrohir replied. "Father is worried sick, and Legolas is torn apart by your sudden departure."  
  
Elladan did not answer. He helped Elrohir onto Mornel who was standing guard over the two Elves and the little mare. He mounted in front of Elrohir, allowing his brother to wrap the blanket around them both.  
  
"Home, Mornel," he instructed, whistling for the mare to follow.  
  
Elrohir swayed behind him, though he had his arms wrapped tightly around Elladan's waist. Elladan clasped his brother's hand in one hand, keeping a grip on Mornel's mane with the other. Gradually, Elrohir's shivering subsided, though tiredness took its place. He laid his head on Elladan's shoulder, letting his thoughts wander. He could clearly see his brother's scars as the crossed his bare back. The pale lines shined almost silver in the moonlight. They were deep wounds, to leave such scars on an Elf, Elrohir thought. Still, they seemed pretty to his befuddled mind, like ribbons of white silk strung across his skin.  
  
"What are you thinking?" Elladan asked, trying to keep Elrohir awake and alert. He had no idea of what kind of danger his brother might still be in.  
  
"You're beautiful," Elrohir answered, his voice soft next to Elladan's ear.  
  
"You think so?" Elladan chuckled. "Well I *am* your identical twin. Try to stay awake now, brother. Tell me of Glorfindel. How beautiful do you find him?"  
  
"Nay," Elrohir countered. "Tell me of Legolas and I will stay awake well enough."  
  
Elladan sighed. "I did not mean to frighten everyone so," he said. "I would not have run away; I merely needed some time alone tonight. Ai! Why must I so hurt the ones I love?"  
  
"We know you love us," Elrohir said. "Even if you do not act like it."  
  
Elladan knew his brother was jesting, as he could feel his smile against his shoulder. He nudged him with his elbow. "You are a brat. Now, stay awake."  
  
"Tell me of Legolas then!" Elrohir repeated.  
  
"I fear I have I hurt him too much this time. It is not his fault that I am not as strong as I used to be."  
  
"You speak of strength, but was it not you who just hauled me out of the river after my own folly?" Elrohir asked, suddenly alert. "You are far stronger than you believe and your spirit shines brighter than ever before." He was tired once again and laid his head back down on his brother's shoulder. Elladan could feel the brush of his eyelashes when he blinked and the warmth of his breath on his neck. "It was easy to find you; I need only follow the light."  
  
Elladan sighed as he felt Elrohir drifting off again. He chafed his hands through the cloak. "Wake up, Elrohir. One more bridge and then we are home." 


	22. Chapter TwentyTwo

A/N: Okay, so I think there will be only one more chapter and an epilogue after this one and then the story is finished. I have a few vignettes planned that follow the same "universe" as this one (my god, it just may turn into an arc!) but I don't know when those will get out. So, if you have been following the story and have never reviewed, you're running out of time *hint hint*. Thanks so much for all the support!  
  
Part 22:  
  
Elrond sat shakily as he watched Elrohir leave the room in a flourish. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself before facing Legolas. The blond had retreated to a chair in the corner where he huddled miserably, fear evident in his eyes. It was strange to see the Prince so afraid, for though Elrond had only known him for a short time, he always seemed to be an infallible source of strength for his sons.  
  
"I'm sorry," the broken whisper startled Elrond with its quiet clarity. "This is my fault. I understand if you want me to leave."  
  
Elrond's anger dissolved at the soft voice. As a healer and a father, he could not turn away such suffering, no matter what the reason. "I would at least hear what took place to cause Elladan to run away before I would pass judgment, young Prince," he said, rising from his chair and moving closer to Legolas.  
  
Legolas nodded, trying to find his voice to speak. "I…We tried…He promised to tell me if I hurt him!" Elrond could only catch half-phrases and broken sentences, but he understood what happened.  
  
"He isn't ready for physical contact," Elrond surmised. "But you both thought he was."  
  
Legolas nodded. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done anything."  
  
"Legolas," Elrond said, kneeling by the chair. He tipped Legolas's face to look him in the eyes. "He will come back, if Elrohir and Glorfindel do not find him first. Elladan would not leave the valley if he was only frightened, and I will not cast you out of my house for a simple mistake. And may I offer some advice?"  
  
"Anything, my Lord."  
  
"Do not tell Arwen."  
  
  
  
  
  
Mornel's hooves clattered on the stone path to the courtyard. Elladan thought it better to bring Elrohir to the house before he saw his horse safely to the stables. However, his plans were waylaid as he saw the small congregation waiting them on the porch steps. His father looked stern, though more worried than angry, thank the Valar. He sighed gratefully when he did not see Legolas. He did not think he could face his lover yet after running away so abruptly.  
  
"Elladan?" his father asked, coming up to catch Mornel's head. "What in the name of Elbereth happened?"  
  
"Elrohir fell in the river, and I would not have been able to help him had it not been for Mornel," Elladan said as he handed his brother down to Elrond.  
  
Elrond caught his younger son around the shoulders, steadying him as he swayed. "I'm not hurt, Ada," Elrohir said. "It was my own fault."  
  
Elrond noted the blue tinge to Elrohir's lips and around his finger nails, and the slurred voice. Indeed, Elrohir was quite cold to the touch.  
  
"Come inside quickly. We must get you both warm," he said, ushering them inside.  
  
Elladan felt Erestor's hands on his shoulders, draping a cloak over him and rubbing his skin to warm him. Elrond swept Elrohir's feet from under him, cradling him easily to take him up the stairs.  
  
"Please, Ada," Elrohir complained. "I can walk on my own."  
  
"I know, but it pleases me to care for you so," Elrond said.  
  
They arrived in Elrond's chambers where he immediately set Elrohir in the soft armchair before the fire. Erestor moved to stoke the flames and add more wood until the room was quite warm. Elrond stripped Elrohir of his wet boots and leggings, wrapping him in a soft velvet dressing gown and settling a woolen blanket around him. Erestor helped Elladan to change and sat him on the hearth as he cleaned several shallow scratches gained from the sharp rocks in the river.  
  
"What were you doing without your tunic?" Erestor scolded, but he stopped the question as he saw Elrond shake his head.  
  
Elladan let the question pass, but he closed his eyes for a moment. Elrond placed a glass of miruvor in his hands and Elladan caught his hand before he could withdraw. "I'm sorry, Ada. I did not mean to cause such uproar in the house. I needed air and space to think, but I was wrong to leave so quickly without telling anyone my intentions."  
  
Elrond smoothed his hair back, turning his face to the firelight to check a scratch on his cheek. "'Tis understandable, Elladan," he said. He turned away to mix powder from a mortar beside the fire into a mug of tea. He handed the mixture to Elrohir. "Drink that, Elrohir," he instructed.  
  
Elrohir sipped from the cup and made a face at the medicinal taste. "You do not need to poison me to put me out of my misery," he grumbled.  
  
Elrond raised an eyebrow. "Drink it *all*, Elrohir."  
  
Elrohir sighed and downed the drink quickly. He settled deeper into the chair, watching as Elrond continued to clean the cut on Elladan's face. "Are you alright, Elladan?" he asked sleepily.  
  
"Fine, brother. A little damp and a few scratches, that's all," Elladan said. "Do you feel any better?"  
  
"It's still hard to stay awake," Elrohir yawned. "Can I sleep now?"  
  
"Yes, Elrohir," Elrond said. He handed the cloth to Erestor again, letting him finish applying the soothing herbs to Elladan's cuts. Elrond lifted Elrohir easily with no complaints from his son this time. He carried him over to the large bed and laid him against the pillows, tucking the heavy blankets around him. "Sleep here tonight," he whispered.  
  
Elrond returned to the hearth, sitting on the warm bricks next to Elladan. Erestor took it as a signal to leave and finished his ministrations. "Two days and you will not even see a mark," he said cheerfully, putting away the bowls and taking the soiled cloths to be cleaned.  
  
Elrond watched until the door clicked shut and then turned his full attention to Elladan. "You saved your brother?" he said, more of a statement than a question.  
  
Elladan nodded. "His horse fell into the river and he was swept away. Mornel and I went in after him, but I was torn from Mornel's back. He came back for us and pulled us to the bank."  
  
"Oh, blessed Elbereth!" Elrond said, realizing how close he came to losing both of his sons to the river.  
  
Elladan looked at his father with tears in his eyes. "I am so very sorry. I handled the entire situation badly. I will not repeat this evening."  
  
"I daresay that this 'situation' had been going on far longer than just this evening," Elrond said. "Tonight was the culmination of several weeks, it seems, if not longer than that. It was your verisimilitude that caused this, not running away. I spoke to Legolas." Elladan looked up, slightly wary. "You did not fulfill a promise you made to him, though if you spoke to him, he would tell you that it was *he* who was in the wrong."  
  
"That is not true," Elladan said softly.  
  
"Not entirely true, no," Elrond agreed.  
  
He looked at Elladan and noticed something he had not before. His grey eyes were clear and bright instead of the cloudy despair that was seen there for months. His posture was easy, even though he still had to gain back a considerable amount of weight from his long convalescence, and he did not huddle in on himself in an attempt to hide the scars.  
  
"What magic is this?" Elrond mused aloud. He pushed the hair back from Elladan's shoulders, regarding him more closely. "Oh, my Elladan, what did you find beneath the stars to bring you back so suddenly?"  
  
"Found?" Elladan said. "I did not find anything, though I would say that the path is clearer now. I do not feel lost anymore."  
  
Elladan did not expect the embrace from his father that nearly sent them both tumbling to the floor. "That is where Elrohir gets it from," he thought, trying to imagine his father at Elrohir's age. The idea sent him into a fit of laughter that he muffled in Elrond's shoulder.  
  
"What do you find so humorous?" Elrond asked in mock outrage.  
  
Elladan was about to explain when Glorfindel burst through the door. He took in the scene with quick eyes. "Where is the other one?" he asked.  
  
"Asleep," Elladan said, indicating the bed.  
  
Glorfindel stepped over the bed, leaning down to see Elrohir clearly. He brushed his cheek with the back of his hand gently. "Elrohir looks half- drowned," he said.  
  
Elladan shrugged. "He was," he said simply.  
  
Glorfindel collapsed into the abandoned armchair. "Should I want to hear the tale now, or in the morn?"  
  
"I have repeated it too many times already this evening," Elladan said. "Suffice it to say that he fell into the river, but we are both fine."  
  
Glorfindel accepted the brief answer. "I thought it would be Legolas trying to drown himself in the river," he said.  
  
Elladan looked alarmed, but Elrond put a hand on his shoulder. "He was distraught when you left, but he has calmed since then. He is waiting for you in the library for whenever you wish to see him."  
  
Elladan rose. "I believe that now would be the best time," he said.  
  
Elrond took his hand and squeezed it. "You will both be fine," he said with certainty. "Tell the truth. No more lies or pretending."  
  
Elladan nodded. "I will, Father. Tell Elrohir not to worry when he wakes up. Or perhaps Glorfindel should!" he said as he left to the library. 


	23. Chapter TwentyThree

A/N: Oh, how very sad. This is the last official "part" of Somewhere Between. There will be an epilogue, soon, but it will just be about Legolas and Elladan. I hope this is a good ending for everyone, and I hope you've enjoyed this story. Like I said before, I'm planning a few more that will deal with Elladan and Legolas, but I don't know when those will get written. And if you haven't reviewed this story yet, or you were waiting for the end or something, then I would really really really appreciate it if you reviewed it before moving on to bigger and better fics! And thank you so much for all the feedback I've gotten during this whole thing! I would not have been able to finish it without all of you. Okay, enough rambling on. Here's the last part.  
  
Part 23:  
  
Elladan took a deep breath as he stood on the threshold of the library door. He knocked on the heavy wooden frame as he swung the door open. Legolas was perched on the edge of a chair in the corner and his head jerked up as he heard the door open. Elladan closed the door behind him and stood against it for a moment, keeping his eyes on Legolas. They were silent for long moments, regarding each other solemnly.  
  
"Forgive me," Elladan said simply. "It was dishonorable of me to go back on my word as I did today."  
  
"I wanted to go after you, but your father wouldn't let me," Legolas said.  
  
"Elrohir found me as I was returning," Elladan said. "Then he fell into the river and we both nearly drowned."  
  
Legolas leapt to his feet in alarm. "Are you hurt? Is Elrohir injured?"  
  
Elladan raised his hands in a gesture of submission. "Peace, friend. We are both uninjured and whole, though Elrohir will be sleeping tonight where Father can keep watch over him. He will be his normal exuberant self in the morning."  
  
Legolas sighed deeply in relief. "I love you," he said, not moving from where he stood.  
  
Elladan stared hard at the beautiful blond in front of him. "If you hadn't returned, I would have gone after you, no matter what your father or my father said," Legolas continued. "I would have followed you to the ends of Arda until I died of grief."  
  
Elladan crossed over to Legolas, taking up the elegant hands in his own. "Do not say that, Legolas. Do not tie your heart to mine in such a manner!"  
  
Legolas shook his head. "I only speak the truth," he said. "I understand if you no longer feel love towards me, or if you did not feel it to begin with. That is not important."  
  
"Legolas, your love is as important to me as any other's ever has been. It is like sunlight and air and springtime. I would not have been able to survive without it! Do not think that your love is any weaker or stronger than mine for you!"  
  
Legolas cast his eyes around the room, trying to assimilate the information. "We are both forgiven by each other, then?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Yes," Elladan said. "No one is at fault for what happened, or we are equally so."  
  
Legolas seemed to accept the information, for which Elladan was glad. "Will you come to my room with me?" Elladan asked, wanting the comfort of his own surroundings.  
  
Legolas hesitated, but nodded and followed Elladan out the door and through the halls. The corridors were strangely silent and empty; not even the ever-present Elven singing could be heard. It was odd, as though the entire valley was holding its breath.  
  
They entered Elladan's room and he sank onto the bed, Legolas following suit. They sat side by side, knees barely touching as they were each lost in their own thoughts.  
  
"What do we do now?" Legolas finally asked.  
  
"I am too tired to start an argument," Elladan said.  
  
"As am I," Legolas agreed. "I cannot think of a topic to start one on anyway. Making love is out of the question," he said as though he were discussing the weather.  
  
"Yes, for now," Elladan said in a matching tone. "But I truly do not believe that will forever be the case."  
  
"Could we sleep together?" Legolas asked hopefully. "So long as all we do is sleep."  
  
"I believe so," Elladan said too quickly. Legolas gave him a stern look and Elladan thought on the subject before answering more slowly. "Yes. I would like for you to share my bed with me tonight."  
  
Legolas moved to turn down the soft blankets as Elladan put out the candles and latched the window. Legolas allowed Elladan to lay down first before he crawled under the covers. He stayed very still, not knowing exactly how welcome he was. Suddenly, he felt himself being drawn close and surrounded by the comforting heat of Elladan's body.  
  
"It is nice this way," Elladan purred into his ear.  
  
Legolas relaxed in his arms. He let Elladan be in control of the situation, something he failed to do of late. He heard the gentle breathing behind him even out into sleep, though he stayed awake for a while after, thinking on the other denizens of the valley. Elrohir would be fine after a good night's rest, though they would all need to rethink their treatment of Elladan after this evening, especially his younger brother. Lord Elrond had forgiven him. And Elladan—Elladan sighed contentedly in his sleep against Legolas's neck.  
  
Yes, Legolas thought as he drifted off to sleep, Elbereth shines brightest over Imladris tonight. 


	24. Epilogue

WARNINGS: This part is NC-17, and it says so in the chapter label. I didn't change the overall warning of the story, since it is just this part, but if you think I should then I will. It contains SLASH, so if the idea of two males together turns you off, then don't read this. It isn't rocket science. Okay, on with the *very last* part of Somewhere Between.  
  
Epilogue:  
  
*6 months later*  
  
Elladan sighed happily as he lay still, listening to the distant crackle of the fire in the study. The sound was complimented nicely by Elrohir's harp as he strummed it idly, picking out ancient melodies as they came to him. Legolas's hands came around him, settling easily around his waist from where he lay behind him. Legolas was humming in tune with the music, but too quietly for anyone else to hear.  
  
Peace, Elladan thought. This was what peace was truly like.  
  
The harp slowed and stopped, followed by a rustle of cloth. Elladan opened his eyes—he did not notice that he had closed them—to see Elrohir stretching, silhouetted by the firelight.  
  
"I am off to bed," Elrohir announced. "Good night, brother, Legolas," he said, nodding to the mass of limbs on the couch.  
  
"Thank you for your songs, Elrohir," Legolas said.  
  
"Good night, sweet brother," Elladan said as Elrohir stepped over to kiss his cheek.  
  
The opening door sent a cold draft of air into the room and Elladan shivered. Legolas held him closer. "Cold?" he asked.  
  
Elladan shook his head. "No," he said.  
  
Elladan turned in Legolas's arms so they faced each other. He pressed his lips against the Prince's soft mouth. He could feel the thing lips curl into a soft smile and herd Legolas's hum of approval.  
  
"Legolas," Elladan said, pulling back so that he could look into the blue eyes. "I want something from you."  
  
"Anything, my lord," Legolas answered. "I am yours to command in all things."  
  
"I want you to make love to me tonight."  
  
Legolas's expression turned from amused to wary. "Must I repeat myself?" Elladan asked coyly. "I will say it as many times as you need me to, until you understand that I ask this from you and it is my choice and my timing."  
  
Legolas's eyes turned dark, the blue showing in a thin line around the black. He looked around the chamber and stood, nearly tipping Elladan off the couch. He held out his hand to help the darker Elf up.  
  
"Not here," Legolas said, taking the hand and pulling Elladan with him through the house.  
  
Elladan did not know what to expect from Legolas's sudden determination, but he was content to trust him. Legolas led him to the stables and quickly fetched Mornel from inside. The black horse pawed the ground, happy to see Elladan, even in the middle of the night. The cool air showed in white plumes from his nostrils, highlighting the crisp breeze. Elladan mounted the bare back silently and Legolas swung up behind him after speaking quietly into the horse's ear. Mornel took off in an easy canter, out into the forests of the valley.  
  
Elladan did not know what Legolas planned, but the cold air was awaking fires in him that he had kept burning low for many months. He leaned his head back against Legolas's strong shoulder, letting the Prince guide the horse to wherever his goal was. His lips parted as he dragged in deep breaths of pine scented air, and his eyes closed to better savor the scents and sounds of the forest.  
  
Eventually Mornel slowed from a command from Legolas. Elladan opened his eyes to find them in a glade surrounded on all sides by towering oak and elm trees. Legolas leapt lightly to the ground, holding his arms out to catch Elladan as he also lowered himself.  
  
"Keep watch, Mornel," he said. Mornel tossed his head and trotted off to taste the thick, verdant grass, his ears swiveling for signs of danger.  
  
"Why did you take us out here?" Elladan asked, though there was no fear in his voice.  
  
Legolas smiled. "I am of Silvan blood," he reasoned. "What better way to enjoy a union of love than under the trees and sky and upon the green grass?"  
  
Elladan laughed, a sound of pure joy. "I have heard that Silvan Elves are fey creatures."  
  
Legolas sat on the grass and beckoned him. "Come here, and I will show you exactly how fey I can be," he said.  
  
Elladan stretched out on the ground beside him, reaching out to pull the blond to his chest. Legolas bent to kiss him soundly, easing the loose tunic over his head at the same time.  
  
"We have brought no weapons," Elladan realized ruefully.  
  
"Peace, love. We are still well within the borders of Imladris, and the protection of you father. We have no need of weapons here."  
  
"How is it that you know this place better than I, who was born and raised here?"  
  
Legolas shrugged, using the movement to divest himself of his own tunic. "It is of no matter."  
  
Elladan sighed, though the sound was swallowed in another kiss. He tasted Legolas like a starving man at a feast, quickly at first then slowing to savor the sensations. Legolas let him control the movements so long as Elladan was willing to do so. After several long moments, Elladan's fervor calmed and Legolas moved from his mouth. Elladan whimpered at the loss of contact, but stopped as lips ghosted down his neck to lap at the soft spot between his throat and his collarbone. Meanwhile, hands rubbed at his ribs, following his breaths as Legolas's mouth moved farther down.  
  
A sharp gasp cut the air as Legolas fastened his mouth around Elladan's nipple. He sucked hard, dragging tiny gasps and moans from Elladan as he pulled away and blew on the nub to watch it harden in the cold air.  
  
"Ai!" Elladan cried in mock pain as it was repeated on his other nipple. "Why do you torment me so?"  
  
"Ah," Legolas replied. "'Tis a sweet death, is it not?"  
  
"Too sweet. Will you not share it with me?"  
  
"In time, my lord," Legolas said as he unfastened the lacings to Elladan's leggings. The silky material was soon cast aside and Elladan moaned as the cold air came in contact with his oversensitive skin. The cold was quickly replaced by heat. Wet, sucking, maddening heat as Legolas took Elladan's hardness into his mouth.  
  
Legolas listened to Elladan's inarticulate cries, pleased but careful not to restrain him in any way. Instead, his hands traced lightly over the muscles of his legs, wringing soft whimpers from the beautiful mouth. Elladan could feel his passion rising quickly—too quickly—after his long self-enforced celibacy. He had not even touched himself since that last tragic night when Elrohir had almost drowned six months ago. It made the past months bitter, but this night a thousands times sweeter for the comparison.  
  
Elladan tried to push Legolas away, but Legolas would have none of it. He swallowed Elladan to the root as Elladan cried out, emptying his passions down Legolas's throat. He lay back weakly, gathering his wits as Legolas moved back up his body to lie beside him. Legolas stoked his chest lightly until he gradually came back to himself. Elladan looked at Legolas with a wicked grin, then moved to turn onto his stomach.  
  
"No," Legolas said, stopping his movements.  
  
Elladan frowned and sat up. "Do you not wish to take me as I asked you?" he asked quietly.  
  
Legolas shook his head. "Not that way," he said. He pushed Elladan back down to the grass. "I wish to see your face."  
  
Elladan's eyes smoldered as he allowed himself to be positioned. Legolas assured himself that Elladan was comfortable on the soft grass, then bent his lover's legs against his chest. He cast aside his own legging hurriedly, but not before drawing out a stoppered vial. Elladan licked his lips, but remained still and quiet with none of the tensing that Legolas expected from the young half-Elf. Legolas uncorked the vial and a sweet aroma filled the air around them. He leaned up to kiss Elladan again, missing the taste of him already. Elladan was surprised at the gentleness of the kiss which was lacking in the rough battle of mouths that had started the tryst. He gasped as he felt a smooth, wet finger slide down his backside and circle lazily around his opening. Legolas was insistent in his movements, his tongue mimicking his fingers as he swirled it around Elladan's mouth. Finally, Elladan could no longer breathe and kiss at the same time and he collapsed back, allowing Legolas to concentrate all his efforts on the tight opening waiting for him.  
  
Legolas easily slid one slick finger inside Elladan, watching his face carefully for any signs of pain or distress. Elladan's eyes were closed, but the soft mews of noise were pleading rather than painful as Legolas moved his finger in and out of his lover's body. He added another finger, scissoring them to loosen and stretch the tight muscle. Elladan stiffened and cried out as he found the tiny spot inside that always set off fireworks brighter than any of Mithradir's behind Elladan's eyes.  
  
"Please, Legolas! I need you now…" Elladan groaned.  
  
Legolas responded quickly, spurred on by the husky tone of Elladan's voice. He repositioned Elladan's legs and quickly coated himself with the remainder of the oil. Elladan's eyes squeezed shut as he felt Legolas's insistent hardness pressing against him. He breathed slowly, trying to relax himself, but fire exploded through his body as Legolas forced just the head inside him. Elladan bit his lip hard, but he could not stop the whimper that escaped him.  
  
Legolas stopped at Elladan's distress. Elladan was nearly hyperventilating in his state, and it was causing his muscles to tighten and tense. Legolas rubbed his arms soothingly.  
  
"Hush, Elladan," he whispered. "Open your eyes. Shh, just open your eyes," he pleaded.  
  
Elladan did as he was asked, albeit slowly. His eyes focused on the stars above him, and he was swept away by the beauty of the sky. He saw Legolas still poised above him, and it seemed as though his blond hair was framed in a halo of stars. A peace settled over him as he reveled in the cool night's gaze. He was in no danger; the stars protected him as surely as Legolas would.  
  
Legolas felt Elladan relax as the pain receded. The grey eyes focused on his once more, sparkling with life and wonder. Legolas smiled and began to move forward once more. Elladan's head tipped back and his mouth fell open in pure pleasure as his body was fully breeched.  
  
"My sweet Prince," Elladan moaned. "Do you hear what the trees say of us?"  
  
Legolas smiled and laughed. "They say we bless them with our union, and that the stars are glad it is a clear night with no clouds to obstruct their view!"  
  
Elladan laughed, but the sound turned into a cry of pleasure as Legolas's hand ghosted between his legs, matching the rhythm of their rocking bodies. It took but a touch to bring him to completion again, and he spilled his seed between their bodies. Legolas tumbled after him into ecstasy as the clenching of Elladan's internal spasms pushed him over the edge. He collapsed against the darker Elf as they panted together on the grass. Legolas moved after only a moment, though, bending his head to clean the sticky fluid from his lover's stomach. Elladan purred at the sensation, turning his cheek to lie on the cool, damp grass. It was a strange contrast to the hot mouth that continued to suck on his skin even after the evidence of their ardor was licked away.  
  
"We are both too easily spent," Elladan said when his voice was recovered.  
  
"Nay," Legolas said, lying beside him again. "We are out of practice. That is easily remedied, though I do think our next encounter would be better set in front of a fire." Legolas smirked at the remark.  
  
"How did you know that I needed to be here?" Elladan asked seriously.  
  
Legolas traced the smooth contours of his face, gazing knowingly into his eyes. "You are a child of the stars, more so than even most Elves can claim. And you are like me in that stone walls give you not the comfort that living wood can. It is a simple matter of the heart, though rather deep for the head at times."  
  
Elladan lay still for a long time relishing the afterglow, but the breeze was cold and soon chilled his bare flesh. Legolas climbed lightly to his feet, pulling Elladan up with him. "Are you ready to return to your father's house?"  
  
Elladan nodded. "Yes, though I do not look forward to the ride back!" he said as he felt the slight twinge of the effects of their love making.  
  
Legolas smiled, but dressed quickly. He called for Mornel and the black horse trotted into view from behind the trees where he had blended easily into the shadows. Legolas leapt onto his back and held out a hand to help Elladan up. Elladan allowed himself to be pulled up, but was surprised when Legolas took him into his arms instead of setting him behind him.  
  
"I do not wish for you to be so sore when we return that you would not want to repeat our actions," Legolas said, grinning wickedly.  
  
Elladan smiled and buried his head into Legolas's shoulder. "Do not fear it, but you will be the one to explain to my father why I am unable to sit at the table for breakfast!"  
  
Legolas gasped. "Not for all the riches of Middle Earth!" he said.  
  
Mornel whinnied as though laughing and set off back to the house, carrying the two lovers to their bed and the coming dawn. 


End file.
